Ashes, Ashes
by Dromear-CMBadiuk
Summary: Victims of House Venture's business try to survive his relentless manhunt - and build their relationship before imminent death
1. Chapter 1 - Evening

((A BRIEF FOREWORD: This story was written in full collaboration with my great friend "The Lettered Violet". I would invite you to take a look at her work, as she does some amazing writing and made this story what it is. Also, I'm very aware of the typos and grammar issues. These will be ironed out as time goes on, I promise! This story is already almost finished in my first draft as is, so you won't have to wait long for a finished product! Please enjoy))

ASHES, ASHES

CHAPTER 1 - Evening

Frost resented when a contract forced him to wear a mistcloak. The tassles only ever got in the way. He put up with it for now - his employer was the young heiress to a noble house. He needed to make a good impression, influence her to become a returning customer.

He would meet this heiress soon on her balcony. Reaching into his coinpurse, he dropped a lone boxing on the ground and Pushed. In an instant, he was thrust into the air in a deep arc. He burned tin to make out his destination along the dense line of steeples and domed roofs.

With grudging appreciation, Jana regarded the shadows thrown upon the stone balcony from the elaborate party inside. It wasn't anything like a great house's ball, she knew, having been invited to a few to her parents' consternation. The party was relatively modest, but was still probably beyond her family's budget. That wasn't her concern, however. Jana had a nice stash coming along.

The party, actually, was perfect cover. It wasn't large enough for anybody to care if she was there or not, but it was loud and bright enough for any unusual noises on the balcony to not be overheard.

Jana waited in the shadows for this Mistborn, this "Frost" person to appear. He had better.

With tin burning, the light of the party nearly overwhelmed Frost as he descended. He extinguished it and tossed down another coin next to his employer. She jumped to the side. He chuckled, and Pushed on the coin to slow his fall, then rolled onto the stone bricks made damp with The Mists. Rising, he brushed off his shoulders. "Evening," he said, adding charm to his tone. "Lovely evening to watch the Mists." He waited for Jana to respond to their predetermined phrase.

Annoyed that Frost had been able to sneak up on her, Jana scowled and straightened her skirt.

"I am Jana Borlyn, yes," she replied shortly. "And if you're Frost, an actual Mistborn and not some Coinshot with fancy tricks, I have a proposition for you."

Using iron, Frost Pulled the coin he landed with back into his hand. "I'm listening."

"There's a barge full of textiles on the first canal of the River Channerel." Jana lifted a brown potted plant and pulled out an envelope. "It can't reach its next checkpoint."

That barge was bound for delivery to House Wodard, one of her father's clients. If the cloth was delivered, Jana knew that Hafar Wodard would try to swindle her father out of the shipping charges by selling him "special" cloth at enormously huge prices. And Jana's father would fall for it. If the barge went missing, however, Hafar would have to pay for the entire barge and be obligated to pay the Borlyn house for the shipping and lost barge.

Jana held the envelope containing details of the barge's schedule close. "I need to know if you can do it. Make it look like an accident, something completely normal."

"You can consider it done, so long as there's good pay in it for me." The Mistborn put away the boxing he held and instead grabbed a clip, flipping the simple coin in his hand. He glanced through the windows into the ballroom below and his stare went blank for a moment. The colours stood out so distinctly among the stark white stonework, and for a moment he let his mind wander. So many lovely girls, so much money… He shook his mind free. He'd likely been staring longer than he realized. "Sorry, a bit unprofessional of me. Anyway, trust me, Lady Jana. I make sure every job I do looks like an accident."

Jana took advantage of Frost's spacing out to pull a few coins from her hidden purse. What was he staring at? She couldn't see anything through the infernal mist. When Frost looked back at her, Jana set the coins and the envelope daintilyon the balcony railing, careful not to make much noise.

"A third now. The rest after I hear of the disappearance from a source other than you." Jana knew from experience that these criminal types would stoop to anything to cheat her out of a few coins. But they were better than those disgusting boys at the party, who only showed interest because her family was wealthier than theirs. Frost was just there for the money, too, but at least he was honest about that.

"Lady Jana," came a slightly drunken voice from just beyond the doorway. "Are you out here?" Jana winced, recognizing the saccharine tones of Lord Perot, her family's favorite suitor.

"Take your money and leave," she hissed at Frost before walking into the light to block the Mistborn from Perot's view. "Just getting some nice air," Jana said loudly.

Before Perot could come into view, Frost dropped off the blacony and into the pitch dark. Instead of leaving, however, he hung from a lower balcony and burned tin. He wanted to hear this conversation. Maybe he could use it as leverage.

Thankfully, Jana heard Frost jump over the side quickly and quietly. It was very unlikely that Perot could have known he was there.

Lord Perot continued to talk, smiling in what he likely thought was a rakish, dashing way. "Why enjoy the air out here when you can enjoy plenty of drink and pleasant company inside?" He probably meant himself.

Jana twitched inside. "There is no pleasant company inside."

"Oh, come now, let's go back," Perot laughed, too drunk to properly realize what Jana had said and too stupid to know what she meant. "I've been meaning to introduce you to my mother." With the hand that wasn't holding a cup half full of wine, he gripped Jana's arm and pulled her into the lighted building.

If Jana pulled away now, she would make a scene. That wouldn't be good for her already tenuous position in the house, nor would it help the series of covert operations she headed. Never mind if it actually benefited the Borlyns. At least this next part was in action. So Jana let Lord Perot tow her where he wanted and decided to suffer through the rest of the evening.

The Barge

When he heard the talk come to an end, Frost pressed the clip he held to the wall and shot backward into the night. This barge would likely be stopped for the night, giving him ample opportunity to take it down.

With the pinpricks of lamplight drawn across the city, Frost sometimes forgot of the people below. He regretted it, but helping the ones suffering would only get him killed. He Pushed off fences and window frames, propelling himself faster and faster toward the canals. He had his job to take care of, not people.

Kredik Shaw loomed on the ashen horizon. He thanked The Lord Ruler he had no reason to be anywhere nearby. For a reason he couldn't explain, the spire terrified him. He felt powerless in its presence.

Among the lights and glitz of the small ballroom, Jana heard something interesting behind her. She hadn't actually been listening to Lord Perot's and his mother's inane prattle, but now she properly tuned them out. The voices were close but soft, and while Jana was by no means a tineye, she could make out what they were saying.

"I haven't been able to get any shipments through in months," said one man.

"Have you tried going through Borlyn?" asked another.

"Yes, and what's strange is that those are the only ones that work. Do you think that Gerard is doing something to his rivals' boats?"

"He's not bright enough for that. The Lord Ruler only knows how he's managed to keep his house afloat for so long."

"The son then. He's an intelligent fellow."

"Intelligent in all the wrong ways," the pompous man scoffed. "He likes his books but doesn't know how to talk to people. It can't be him. And don't ask about Lady Borlyn. It certainly would not be her. She's too timid. Besides, the little Lady Jana doesn't concern herself with anything beyond her suitors."

"Are you so sure about that?"

"Quite."

The conversation moved on. Jana found herself irked that these men thought she was an airhead, but she wasn't about to contradict them. That was the persona she presented to the noble courts, and it was going to stay until she left for the countryside. Whenever that was going to be.

With a flare of tin, the outline of the barge came into view. He singled out the sounds of the dormant boat and heard the impatient shifting of a pair of guards. He check for the blue ribbon-lines of metal, finding none. Odd, he thought. No armour? He tensed in midair. The guards were not simply guards. Hazekillers. Why would one barge be so well guarded? He shook the new worry from his mind and soldiered on. Grabbing a handful of clips, he flicked one into the midnight air, and slowed his descent until he hung suspended directly above one of the hazekillers, who seemed totally unaware of Frost's presense. He fished a clip from his pocket and carefully aimed the coin for the guard's exposed neck while it was still in hand. With his shot lined up, he Pushed. The clip implanted itself into the guard's spinal cord, and after a sharp gasp, the man fell to the deck with a series of low thumps. His staff clattered down, and at the abrupt noise the other hazekiller turned. He called out toward the hatch to the lower deck, and a moment later two more hazekillers joined the first. They took their stances. Now the fight would begin.

Frost dropped to the deck and Pushed clips in the direction of the hazekillers. They deflected the coins skillfully from their wooden shields. Frost cursed. They've had some training. He burned pewter and drew his daggers. "Go ahead," he taunted under his breath.

As the night dragged on, Jana grew more irritable. Lord Perot was as charming as ever, but she sent him home when he grew drunk enough to announce to the entire room that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Hopefully Perot's embarrassment would drop him from the favor of her parents.

Jana went out onto the balcony one more time, reveling in the freedom from the lack of crowds. Few people ever came out here, but Jana wasn't frightened by the Mist. Just annoyed that it obscured so much. Servants put the lights out inside. With the loss of light, Jana jumped back to the present. As she went back upstairs, she wondered if Frost would have done the job tonight, and if she should wait up for him. Mistborn, and those like him, definitely had odd hours.

Frost Pushed off a clip left on the deck, and soared over the hazekillers' heads. He spun in the air and shot another coin at one opponent's head, who blocked it by a hair. Frost cursed again. He rolled backward and unfastened his cloak. The mass of fabric drifted to the floor.

His obsidian daggers brandished, he dashed toward his enemy, flaring pewter to give himself a burst of speed. The hazekillers jumped back, but not in time. The ebon blades tore skin on one man's arm and the others stumbled back. The soldier Frost cut dropped his staff, but his shield was strapped to his arm. Smart man. Frost took another swing and plunged a dagger into the hazekiller's thigh. The enemy tried to shove Frost away, with no success. Occupied with his victim, the Mistborn failed to notice another hazekiller taking a swing for his ribs. The blow struck true. Frost gasped and recoiled, pulling the dagger from his victim's leg. He Pushed off another clip and backed off.

"Keep tight formation," one of the hazekillers ordered. "Brax, help Mint to his feet. I need both of you if I'm gonna take this Mistborn down." The downed hazekiller struggled to get to his feet, the one called Brax supporting him with an arm. Neither of them looked older than twenty. They would be the easier targets. The supposed leader kept his gaze as strong as his stance. He looked practically immovable compared to the other two men. Frost would take his time. No need to cause himself extra risk.

Make it look like an accident. The words echoed in his mind. If I can even finish this fight, I'll do what I can. The hazekillers raised their shields and gripped their weapons tighter. Frost wiped his offhand dagger free of blood and checked his pewter reserves. Still got enough. He flared the metal a touch. The pain where he got hit on the rib dulled and his footing felt more sure. "Are you going to show me you're actually hazekillers, or are you just going to pose like them?"

The hazekillers pressed their lips shut. The leader stepped in front of the others, raising his dueling cane. They would wait for him to move. He flicked a coin into the air toward the main hazekiller, then stepped to the side. He Pushed the clip at the injured soldier. His target crouched and deflected the coin. The main hazekiller stood his ground, but the final one - Brax was his name - charged. He yelled and raised his staff high. He kept his hands tight on the weapon and thrust for Frost's skull. The Mistborn ducked to the side. It proved too little, as the staff scraped his shoulder hard. He cursed, but kept himself in motion. Brax swung again, for the ribs. Frost ducked again and used the follow-through to stab the hazekiller's hip and avoid the blow. The dagger scraped bone and tore flesh. Rich blood spattered out, coating Frost's arm. The scent of copper filled the dense air. Brax yelped in pain, but kept up his defense. Resilient kid. The Mistborn pulled his blade out and slashed again for the hazekiller's face. It ripped skin open, another splat of red coating Frost's tattered shirt. The hazekiller shrieked and reached to cover his face. He screamed briefly, short on breath, as Frost raised his dagger to finish the job. "Don't kill me! I have a widowed mother!"

The plea for mercy caught Frost off guard. He forgot he could be such a monster at times. "Good luck surviving the wounds," he said. The words were sincere. He turned to the other hazekillers and pushed Brax out of his mind. The young hazekiller fainted - likely from trauma and blood loss.

The leader marched forward. He kept his shield raised high and his cane ready to strike. The previously injured Mistborn circled around Frost. Both kept their stances low. Frost put the thought of his brash actions out of his mind. He raised a dagger to each of the hazekillers. "Night won't stay forever, boys," Frost taunted. "Let's get this moving." He wanted to finish this fight soon. The taste in his mouth had turned sour. He grabbed another clip, dropped it, and lauched himself toward the leader. The opponent raised his shield high as Frost descended. His dagger lodged between the shield's planks. The leader slammed his shield - and Frost - to the ground. His grip slipped free of the dagger as he hit the barge deck. The hazekiller rose his shield again. Frost rolled to the side before the shield came down on his neck. He scrambled to his feet. The leader swung his dueling cane for Frost's leg. The other hazekiller rushed from the rear, swinging for Frost's other leg. No coins close enough to easily get out of the way and not enough time to grab one. He jumped, hoping to have the weapons miss him. They skimmed his pants as he flipped in the air, and the hazekillers both stumbled. He Pulled a coin into his hand and thrust off it again, dropping onto the already injured hazekiller. Bones cracked and a scream filled the air when Frost landed. /Don't let him suffer./ He reached down and deftly snapped the young hazekiller's neck. The scream cut short. "Sorry, kid."

The leader regained his footing, his face turned sour. "You Mistborn acting like you own everything. Why can't you just let the rest of us be?"

"Just doing my job," Frost replied shortly. "If I don't do this, I don't get paid."

"So you kill people who just want to survive under the Lord Ruler?" This last hazekiller practically shouted now. He'd act in rage when he fought. Or so Frost hoped. "We have lives too!"

"You think I want to kill you? I don't have much of a choice! It's you or me. If you don't want to die, you let me do my job."

The hazekiller said no more. He charged, shield-first, at Frost. The Mistborn flared pewter and side-stepped out of the way. The hazekiller kept running, but turned his shield back. Frost tossed his dagger before he noticed the hazekiller's defense. Now both daggers were stuck in the wood shield. He cursed. Pure instinct. Smart move. The leader rushed again with his dueling cane held high. Frost had no defense but his pewter. Coins would be no good. He took the next blow to his arms. They burned at the impact. Frost gritted his teeth and reached for one of his daggers. No luck. The hazekiller shoved him back and swung again. The cane connected with his cheek, and Frost stumbled. He spit out a large chunk of tooth, a spatter of blood coming with it. The hazekiller took a moment to take the daggers out of his shield. He tossed them far our of either of their reach.

As the hazekiller distracted himself, Frost grabbed a large handful of clips. He shot two in a row as his opponent turned back around. One punched a hole in the hazekiller's leather armor, the other bounced off his shield. The one that hit caused the hazekiller to gasp. He didn't lose his footing like the others. He paced forward and swiped his cane high, for Frost's neck. He ducked in time for the cane to scrape his forehead. His opponent's torso left exposed again, Frost Pushed another coin into the man's stomach. It punctured as well, and the hazekiller gasped once more. "Stop that!" He shouted.

"You or me," Frost repeated. He tossed another coin to his side, shot one more into his opponent's crotch, and shot off to the side. The hazekiller dropped to his knees. Frost grabbed one of his daggers as fast as he could while his foe puked. Pushing off one more coin, he descended onto the hazekiller with a scream. The leader turned his gaze upward, and Frost lodged his dagger into the man's left eye. His head slammed to the deck. He gasped, blood filling his mouth, and Frost watched in silence as his opponent's intact eye rolled back into his head. He removed his dagger, wiping off the leftover gore. This didn't have to happen. Then again, it did. Me or them, he told himself again. He had to tell himself those words more and more lately. He retrieved his other dagger from across the deck, then climbed down the stairs at the back of the barge to check on the goods below. He still had to find a way to sink this ship.

Frost reasoned to use a few bottles of ale to make the hazekillers look like they caused the ship to sink while in a drunken stupor. It was as good an idea as he could think of. He also used a large hunk of metal he found in the hold below to break a hole through the front of the barge. As water flooded the hold downstairs, Frost reutrned to the top deck. He had one more thing to grab.

Frost retrieved his cloak and draped it over his shoulder for now. He glanced back to the fainted hazekiller - Brax. He felt guilty for being so brutal in their fight, and for now letting him potentially drown. Even if he woke, he'd be too weak to swim. Often times Frost's instincts got the best of him. He had a slight suspicion the young man could be a Misting, which he often got with those he fought. His opponents usually never lived long enough for him to confirm his suspicions. He had his chance now, so he burned bronze, and detected a whispering pulse from the young man. Quiet, but rough and instinctive. Just as he thought. He's a Thug. He couldn't let the poor kid die so so easily. Pulling a pewter vial from his belt, he uncorked it and sat the hazekiller up. Frost emptied the pewter into Brax's mouth. Burning bronze again, he confirmed that Brax now burned pewter more evenly. Lucky guy to be able to burn while he's out. Now, to get you off the sinking barge. He slipped his cloak on, then awkwardly lifted the hazekiller into his arms. He Pushed off a coin left from the fight onto the boardwalk around the canal. With a grunt, Frost eased the hazekiller to the ground. "Don't go getting killed now, kid." Frost had done his good deed for the day. He Pushed himself back out into the night, returning to Borlyn Manor.

Before returning to her room, Jana sent all the servants to bed and made sure every light was off. Now in her chambers, she lit one tiny candle, unlatched her bedroom window, and set the candle on a table in view of the window. There. If Frost was going to show up tonight, hopefully he would see the light and know where to go. Jana wasn't as haughty as some of the other nobles who had such dealings, so she didn't mind that a meeting time had never been established, though it was a little annoying.

Since she had no idea if Frost would even be there that night, Jana made herself comfortable on the chair next to the window. Tiny amounts of Mist swirled into the room, making hypnotizing patterns on the floor. If somebody found her, Jana would just say she was tired from the night and didn't have the energy to get into bed. They'd probably expect that from the Lady Jana they knew.

After the stress from tonight's job, Frost felt like blowing off some steam, by playing a joke on his noblewoman employer. He raised his mistcloak's hood and, tossing a clip behind him, slingshot himself faster through the night toward House Borlyn. He flared tin as he approached. Most of the lamps had been put out for the night. To find her bedchamber, he might have needed to search a while.

Or maybe not. He spotted the flicker of a candle through the deep Mists. He tossed another clip over his shoulder and shot forward again, on a trajectory to fly straight through Jana's bedroom doors. Whether they were open or not wasn't his concern. He kept his tin flared and adjusted his trajectory on nearby metals. As he approached, he slipped his daggers free of their scabbards for extra effect. The next moment, he darted past the impatient noblewoman and straight into her room. He slid to a halt, using the doorframe behind him as brakes, and stood tall with daggers in hand.

Jana jumped back, startled by Frost's sudden entrance. Judging by the amusement on his face, he thought himself quite funny. She didn't let her surprise show for very long, however.

"What? Did you need to fight your way past the guards outside my window?" Jana asked sarcastically. She reached for her purse to pay the man.

"No," he said, playing along. "But the hazekillers on that barge gave me some trouble. You didn't know they would be there, did you?" He slipped his daggers back into their scabbards as he apptoached the young lady.

"Hazekillers?" Jana scowled. "I wonder if they were hired by my father... probably not. Why would Wodard hire hazekillers, of all things? He hasn't been attacked by allomancers, as far as I know." A chill ran through her as she considered the implications. Did Wodard know about her work?

"Well whatever the case, I'm almost tempted to ask for extra pay on this job. I didn't expect those men. I'm lucky a few of them were young men, not very well trained."

"Badly trained?" Jana almost didn't hear Frost's mention of payment as her mind worked. "Almost like they were normal soldiers just furnished with hazekiller equipment? That would fit with Wodard's frugality. But why would he want to scare off allomancers? Was something else on that barge?"

Frost paused and properly thought for a moment. "The two young ones were inexperienced, but their commanding officer put up a good fight. They worked as a team, despite being naive. They were legitimate. As for anything special on the barge, the only thing I could think of is the hunk of metal I used to sink it. Why?"

"If Wodard wanted to scare allomancers off, he must have thought his shipment was in danger." Jana made to run her fingers through her hair, but had forgotten that it was pinned up. All she did was make a huge mess. "Our house would be the only to benefit from this, which I know, but if it were an accident and nobody knew it was attacked...?" She looked hopeful at Frost, standing there so ominously, mistcloak tassels gently swaying in the Misty breeze from the window.

Still, Frost stood uncertain. "I don't think I'm following you, Lady Jana."

Jana huffed and folded her arms. He didn't need to get it, but she explained anyway. She might have to hire him for something else.

"This means that either Wodard knows I'm working on this side of the law, or that he has something to protect. Probably both. So: does anybody know you were there, and did you get a good look at that hunk of metal you mentioned?"

"That would be no, and no," he said with some regret. "I don't relay my contracts to others. Sadly, I also only tend to do what my contract explicitly requires. If you think this is important, I can check the canal for that metal. It might just cost extra, is all."

Jana was irritated. It was late, but she wasn't about to fall asleep. If Wodard knew about her, there wouldn't be a safe moment. But, if she could properly guard against whatever plot Wodard had brewing, perhaps things would get better.

"Fine," she snapped. "I'll double the payment and wait. It would be best to get this done tonight."

"I'll get it done, then. I'd appreciate if you'd wait for my return. I'd hate to come back to you sleeping. Doesn't look good for me, hope you understand."

Jana rolled her eyes. "Of course I'll wait."

Frost returned to the barge as swifty as he could carry himself. When he arrived again, he checked for Brax out of impulse. The young man was nowhere to be found. Not even a blood trail gave any indication of where he went. Frost shook his head free of the hazekiller. He burned iron, checking for the remains of the barge. Light blue ghostly lines appeared in all directions, pointing to nearby metallic objects. One thick blue line in particular stuck out among the other numerous trails. He Pulled on it, and with a bit of struggle, the large hunk of metal came hurtling toward Frost. He caught it on its way over his head and stumbled back a step. Flaring tin, the detail of the metal bloomed into view. Frost examined the ingot closely. /It looks like just an ordinary bar of steel./ He ventured to lick the dripping bar. /Yeah, definitely steel./ He coughed as the taste of filthy water filled his mouth along with that hzof steel. Tossing the bar back into the canal, Frost shook his head. /Why did they bring hazekillers to guard this thing?/


	2. Chapter 2 - Later

CHAPTER 2 - Later

As Jana paced in her room, walking among the Mist pouring in through her still-open windows, a clatter came from downstairs. Jana froze. Her anxiety could get the best of her sometimes. No sounds followed, so she dismissed the noise as a clumsy servant.

Then a scream sounded from down the hall. Jana's brother - Lukas! Jana was about to open her door when she realized what must have happened. Wodard hadn't suspected her after all. He had assumed it was Lukas hiring shady characters to further the Borlyn fortune.

Breathing shallow, Jana nudged the latch on her door, locking it instead of opening it. Her blood ran cold as she heard an axe on wood, then another, more feminine scream, closer this time. Her father, as dislikable as he was, bellowed out after her mother, then was silenced a second after. Jana backed up towards the open doors, knowing whose room was next. Where are the guards?! She had joked about them with Frost, knowing that they weren't actually outside her room, but there should have been some to stop an intruder like this!

First, someone tried the handle. Jana was backed up as far as she could get now, on the tiny excuse for a balcony. All thoughts fled her mind. These seconds were crucial, but she couldn't think of anywhere she could go. Was this a team? An allomancer? Just a single, unpowered assassin? No matter who it was, Jana still had very little combat training and would not be able to hold her own. Maybe she could leap over the railing and -

The door burst into splinters of priceless wood. A pewterarm with a bloodied battleaxe stooped in the open doorway. His veins popped and his eyes wild with adrenaline and flaring pewter. "Found the youngest!" He called into the hall. "What should I do eith 'er?"

"Bring her in," someone outside replied. "She could know something of her brother's plots."

The Thug grinned, freeing one hand from his weapon and stomping forward. He hulked above the young lady, his hand big enough nearly to wrap around her neck completely. He reached out to grab her...

And glanced over Jana's shoulder to outside. A Mistborn flew through the moonlit air toward the balcony, black tassels flapping violently. The Thug shouted, "Mistborn!" and retreated back, taking a combat stance.

Frost performed the same move he had earlier and darted through the open doorway. This time bracing on the window framing outside the room to control his entry, he slammed shoulder-first into the Thug, flaring his own pewter on impact.

Jana hated herself for it, but she screamed when the man with the axe made his appearance. She screamed again when Frost, quite unexpectedly, sailed over her head and crashed into axe-man. Did she stay at the balcony window or get further inside? Frost had engaged the mercenary, but another had entered the room. It was Hafar Wodard himself, looking more dangerous and enraged than she had ever seen him.

The fight inside smashed the chair next to her window. Jana darted forward and took hold of one of the wooden pieces. It was a crude weapon, but it was something. At least Wodard didn't seem intent upon her. Their concern, for the time being at least, was neutralizing Frost.

Even with Frost's flared pewter, the trained Thug effortlessly tossed him aside. He crashed into a wardrobe and coughed hard. Luckily, when he checked for blood, his hand came back clean. A nobleman with a rapier approached Frost, a look of deep impatience on his face. Frost huffed and tossed a dagger in his direction. He dodged the obsidian blade with ease. Once again, Frost burned pewter and rose to his feet. "And who might you be?" Frost asked the noble.

"You have no right to speak to me, Mistborn." The noble stepped forward and thrust his blade toward Frost. The Mistborn Pushed the blade aside and threw a punch to the noble's gut. It landed hard and true. The noble dropped to a knee and abandoned the rapier. It would do him more bad than good.

The Thug took another swing at Frost. His axe was obsidian, similar to an Inquisitor's. Drops of blood flew off the blade as it swung. Frost ducked under the swing and swiped the Thug's leg with his other dagger. The Thug showed little reaction.

Wodard was kneeling on the ground, his back to Jana. Frost seemed to be struggling, and the axe-man's lack of reaction to getting cut deeply seemed to indicate he was an Allomancer himself. She let Frost deal with him, at least for now.

Jana lifted the piece of chair behind her head, then with a step forward, cracked the dense wood hard against the back of Wodard's head. He grunted, crmupling to the floor. Jana swung again, the wood smashing against Wodard's neck this time. He gasped loud, reaching for his throat. Once more, Jana swung her chair leg and caved the nobleman's nose in. Blood shot from his nostrils and coated her shoes. She dropped the hunk of wood and raised her hands to her mouth. Did she really just kill Hafar Wodard? He went down too easily, she reasoned. He can't be dead! The nobleman didn't get up. Pushing the terror from her mind, Jana turned her attention back to Frost and the man with the axe.

Frost thanked someone aside from The Lord Ruler - he didn't care who - that he was a Mistborn rather than just a Thug or Tineye. He Pulled himself back before the Thug's next strike could hit him, then Pushed forward again and buried his dagger into his opponent's stomach. This blow was one the Thug surely felt. He coughed blood, but raged on. He swung his axe harder, faster.

The Thug frothed at the mouth, his foamed saliva mixing with blood. Frost paid little attention to it. An axe swing headed straight for his neck. He would lose his head if he didn't do something now. So in desperation, he burned a metal he never had before, and raised his hands to the axe's handle.

He shut his eyes tight. With the burn of the new metal, his arms burst with power like he'd never felt before. Opening his eyes, he ripped the axe from the Thug's hands. The Thug stared in terror. Frost took this new opportunity and swung the axe over his head with blazing speed, then brought it down with more force than he knew he had in him. The blade embedded itself so deep into the Thug's skull that it reached the base of his neck.

Then Frost's pewter reserve disappeared.

The Thug choked through his throat and toppled to the floor.

Forst glanced to the noble girl at his left. Me or them… He fainted.


	3. Chapter 3 - Aftermath

CHAPTER 3 - Aftermath

Jana didn't scream at the axe cleaving the big man's head in two. Nor did she scream when Frost looked at her for a moment, blood coating his face, then fainted dead away. She stood, frozen, trying to figure out what to do. It was very late now, late enough that skaa outside would soon wake up to begin their tireless work again. No servants rushed to the noises, meaning they were either dead too, or too scared to go anywhere.

It didn't take much thought for Jana to realize the house was not safe. Somebody would surely come investigate at some point, either for her family or for Wodard, and they'd find Frost. She studied his exhausted face. Despite his frosty personality, he had defended her without question. She couldn't let anybody find him. She knew what they did to illegal Mistborn.

Jana pulled her purse from the wreckage left of her wardrobe, along with her large stash of money and two tiny vials of stolen atium. Her father had more in his room, and she'd need to get that. Jana halted, thinking of the carnage she would soon face, but then resumed her work. No need to unbox those emotions quite yet. After using a particularly voluminous skirt to bind up her money and some other useful items, Jana pulled Frost away from the two corpses and pools of blood. He was heavy, but smaller than he had seemed with his mistcloak billowing out behind him like some creature from mythology.

It seemed unlikely that the Mistborn would wake up very soon, so Jana left him briefly to retrieve her family's tiny atium stash from her parents' room. She avoided the bed, where two mutilated corpses still leaked blood.

When Jana returned to her room, Frost was still unconscious. There must be a reason... Jana unbuttoned his mistcloak and balled it up into her makeshift bag. He could retrieve that later. As far as Jana could tell, there wasn't any bleeding. Under his shirt, his ribs looked like they would be black and blue tomorrow. There wasn't any injury that looked bad enough that pewter couldn't shake it off, even after Jana inspected Frost's bare feet and calves. She didn't dare go farther than that. To be honest, Jana was sort of relieved there wasn't an injury. She had no idea how to treat one. Yet all the same, no obvious injury meant no obvious wake-up call. Shouldn't his magic have been working?

Granted, Jana didn't know much about Allomancy. Though, didn't she just see a man shrug off a slash in the thigh? A few bruised ribs was nothing that intense. Frost should have been using one of the metals to stay alert. Did pewter work for that too? Her memory betrayed her. Jana thought back to the hidden cabinet in her father's study she had found long ago. It contained a pretty array of Allomantic metals on the off chance that somebody would need it. The stash always seemed like such a waste to Jana, but now...

As Jana ran towards the study, she pulled out the remaining pins in her hair. It wasn't fashionably long, but it was enough to brush the back of her shoulders as she rushed into the study. Somewhat stupidly, the metals were simply hidden behind an ugly painting, but Jana blessed the hideous man it depicted as she opened the cabinet to find a full stash of metal, more than she could carry.

Jana emptied a small wooden box with a lid of its uninteresting ink bottles, which smashed against the floor, further staining her shoes. She was more careful putting the vials of metal flakes into the box, and none of them smashed. They weren't labeled, which seemed like an oversight, but there did seem to be eight kinds of them.

Back in her own room, Jana selected one of each kind and dumped them, one by one, into Frost's mouth. She had given up on figuring out which one exactly he needed, and had propped him up on the wall as best she could, unable to lift him onto the bed.From what she could tell, he seemed to swallow the metals just fine.

Fingers crossed, Jana sat back to wait. She prayed to the Lord Ruler, then stopped herself. That man wasn't god. She instead prayed to God, whoever he was, that Frost would somehow wake up. He was more qualified to take charge in a situation like this - it was unfair that Jana had to.

Frost stirred faintly. His reserves returned, and he gradually regained consciousness. He wondered how much time had passed since he went out. Instinctively burning tin, he cringed at a sharp increase of pain in his chest. Broken ribs, no doubt, he thought. He flared pewter for a moment to ease the pain off, then kept it burning. Jana watched him, almost in concern.

"Well... That was quite the feat," he chuckled.

Jana smiled in relief as a response, to her surprise. The joke was tasteless.

"We need to get you away," she told Frost. "People will come looking, and they can't find you here. Can you walk? Can I do anything?"

"You may need to brace me once I run out of pewter, but I can manage for now." Frost rose to his feet. "How'd you manage to find metals for me?"

"My father was stupid enough to have them sitting around. He's not even an Allomancer, and I only know of one Tineye in his employ," Jana explained, following Frost to her feet. "I didn't know which would help, so I gave you one of each. There are more in here." She nudged the closed box with her toe.

Frost took the box and lifted the lid. Three vials of pewter, one tin, and two of everything else. Not much, but it would last him long enough to find his supplier. "Well right now, I'm thanking him profusely. We should leave." Frost took a moment to check the Thug's corpse for any extra pewter and found one vial. He uncorked and swallowed it immediately. "Gather anything else you might need, then step onto the balcony. We're flying out of here."

"We?" said Jana with surprise, though she knew that this would have to happen. She had suspected it from the moment Frost had passed out. Then - "Flying? Are you quite sure you're well enough?"

"I have no time to worry about that. Either we leave through the skies or risk capture." Frost stepped onto the balcony and reached for another clip. He had only a small handful left. Still, he tossed it to the street below.

Jana followed Frost onto the balcony after throwing the box of metals into her tied-up skirt. Noticing his tiny bundle of coins and subsequent throw, she guessed that the coins would somehow make them move.

"Here," she said absentmindedly as she handed a larger bag to him. She tied the skirt holding various things closely to her body and stopped, unsure of what was happening next.

"Thank you," he said, accepting the sack and tying it onto his belt. "Now this may sound weird, but you''ll have to deal with your embarrassment. Wrap your arms around me, and hang on tight."

"Weird?" She squeaked. "No, not weird at all." As she had noted earlier, Frost was smaller than he had seemed before, but he was still a good head taller than she was. She obeyed his instructions, commanding her constant blushes to stay down and out of sight.

Frost let himself smirk at her embarrassment, but not for long. A garrison soldier called from below, "Mistborn! He has one of the Borlyn women!" With this remark, Frost thrust himself and Jana into the air off the clip he left below. He attempted to keep some grip on Jana as they flew, in case she lost hold. They had a ways to go, and he would not see her fall now. "You feel alright, Lady Jana?"

This was not the way Jana had imagined flying. She had thought it was an effortless glide on the winds, or something to that extent. No, actual flying was more like jumping, if jumping produced such extravagant results. She kept a tight hold of Frost, terrified of falling, yet sure it wouldn't happen at the same time. If not for the uncontrollable nature of having someone else direct her movements, Jana would be enjoying this.

"I'm okay," she replied shortly. "For now." Jana still felt the weight of the night without sleep, and the horrible things she had left behind. But she refused to think about them now, and instead focused on the moment, the flight.

The sun rose through the hazy atmosphere over the horizon. They headed north, toward the hideout of a thieving crew whose leader had a favour to repay to Frost.

"We should lay low for a while. We'll stop by a man I know, who should give us some temporary lodging, then we can discuss whatever happens next." Frost Pushed off window frames and large nails in buildings below, keeping them suspended in the air as best he could with the extra weight he carried. He wondered if more bulky Mistborn had similar issues.

"Whatever happens next..." Jana muttered to herself. She seriously doubted Frost was a noble, and thus she probably wouldn't enjoy any semblance of her normal life for some time. Despite pretending she was prepared, Jana was actually very frightened of what the future had in store for her. She watched the rising sun through their erratic flight, pushing down her fear as best she could.


	4. Chapter 4 - Camon

CHAPTER 4 - Camon

After an extended span of flight, Frost landed softly on a rooftop and stripped his mistcloak off. He was now left in a tight old work shirt. It clung to his form with sweat and caked blood. He glanced to Jana. "You may want to tear up that skirt a bit, to blend in. Or at least to look more distraught."

"Blend in?" Without stepping away, Jana glanced down at the street below, at the pathetic people huddling in the ash. "Oh." Without a second thought, she stepped on the already ash-stained hem of her dress, tearing a few holes in it. A handful or two of ash made the dress look older and less expensive, which, Jana thought wryly, was definitely not the point when her maids had chosen it for the party so long ago.

"Better?" she asked.

"It'll suffice until we can find you handmaiden's clothes." Frost stepped up to the edge of the building and held up an arm. "The crew we're visiting is just below. You'll have to hang onto me one more time."

After tightening the skirt tied around her shoulders, Jana reclaimed her position next to Frost. It was an unusual thing to her, being so close to a male who wasn't her brother or father. But she had gotten sort of used to it through the last thirty minutes, so she took the spot without complaint.

Girl in arm, Frost gently dropped off the roof, keeping the descent slow with the false rain grate below. When they landed, he let Jana let go. "Alright," he told her. "Now I'm going to need you to stay here. I'll speak with the crew leader, then whistle when it's clear for you to come down. Think you can manage?"

Jana nodded without really comprehending what Frost had said. The strain was catching up with her, and unlike Frost, she had no magic to keep her alert. Half of her heard the part about whistling and wondered where the door was. The other half focused more on the uneven, ashy ground beneath her and unpleasant smell in the air.

He huffed at her lack of attention, but forced himself to accept it for now. He knelt down and lifted the rain grate out of his way. "Oh, and try not to show too much dissatisfaction with the area. You'll stick out more than you already do."

With that, the Mistborn dropped into a hole and down a precarious flight of stairs, into the den of thieves run by a man known as Camon. He did not telegraph his entry, but a guardsman still stepped out of the dark and put a blade to his throat. Frost gently Pushed it downward, and the guard backed away. He called out into the crowd.

"Camon! I need to talk to you!" the room silenced. Everyone in the den, including a small girl and a slightly older boy in a corner, turned to face him. The den's patrons glanced around to each other for a moment, whispering about one thing or the other. When no response came, Frost asked to the crowd. "Is Camon around? I need to speak with him." Again, he got no response. After a minute however, a scrawny man with an odd air of confidence about him approached the Mistborn.

"Camon wasing on the outs, strangering." A street cant. Frost never had a good time understanding these.

Steam practically coming out his ears, he worked through it and asked, "Do you know when he'll be back?"

The thief shook his head "Wasing not in the asking for my knowing. He did the leaving of charging on me."

"Well I need the key to one of Camon's backup safehouses, and some skaa work clothing. Can you get those for me?"

Jana was suddenly left alone on the streets of Luthadel. People stared, and she stared back. After a moment, Jana decided it best to sit on the soft ash with her head down, better matching the other people around.

It was strange to sit so still after the events of the night. Jana's thoughts circled back around to her former home, her family. Despite never liking them much and being sure they would find a way to get rid of her, she mourned their loss. It hadn't hit her, not yet, and Jana tried to keep the brunt of the impact away. She could break down later, in safety.

Skaa workers kept walking by, as it was almost time for them to begin work. They seemed hopeless and mirthless, a good reflection of the decrepit street around them. A good reflection of Jana's change of heart.

A figure brushed by Jana, large in all the wrong ways. He walked with his own odd air of confidence. He was well dressed, for a skaa, and he descended into the stairwell Frost had just used along with two lackeys. None of them paid any attention to Jana.

Frost was, to his own surprise, happy to see Camon enter the den. Anyone would be better to speak to than the cant-spouting kid he'd just 'talked' to. "Camon, there you are."

"Efrossine, would that be you?" Camon spouted in a thick street accent. Thankfully he also spoke without an unintelligible dialect.

"Frost now, thank you very much."

"Right of course. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Camon grinned, bearing rotten teeth. Frost turned his gaze away.

"From what I recall, you own me a favour from when I save your skin last month. I've come to cash in."

Camon paused, the smile leaving his face. "Right. What do you need, lad?"

Frost had Camon wait a moment, and whistled up the entryway. "I've got a noble to guard. We need a place to lay low."

A low but sharp whistle broke into Jana's thoughts. She was grateful for something else to focus on. In her tiredness, she all but stumbled down the narrow stairwell she had seen Frost disappear into.

"Well now," said an unpleasant voice that definitely was not Frost's. Jana looked up in alarm, but saw Frost standing off to the side, evidently in his element.

"A noble lady," the man continued, his lips quirking upward as his eyes traveled. Jana was lucid enough to sneer in revulsion at him. She stood up straighter and crossed her arms, determined to at least give some illusion of competency.

"Careful how you look at her," Frost told Camon. "She may be a lady, but she's smart and cunning. And she's got me watching her back."

The words obviously came through as a threat to Camon, for he quickly changed the subject. /Still a coward at heart, I see./

"What do you need from me?" Camon asked.

"A safe house, ideally, and some skaa work clothes. We need to lay low for a while."

Camon laughed deeply. "What else, then? A warm bath and a feast? If you're going to ask for too much, you might as well go all out, lad!"

Jana held back a biting comment or two, since she was unsure of how the situation stood. Breathing more slowly on her own two feet, and with a problem to work through, Jana felt much better.

Obviously, the fat man was the leader of this ... den. Frost had done something for him and never gotten paid. Now, apparently, access to a house and some clothing was too much to ask. Not to mention food. A twinge of loss sparked inside Jana as she realized that practically everything she had ever taken for granted she would now have to work for. It was an unpleasant, but realistic, thought.

"Don't give me your bull, Camon. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even have this den. That's the truth, and anyone there the day I pulled your sorry rear out of that garrison outpost would say the same."

Camon grunted his dissatisfaction. Before he could talk back, he felt the whole den starting at him. "Fine," he said simply. "But this'll make us even."

"Perfect. Then I don't have to do anything more for you ever again."

Again, Camon grunted. He turned and shouted at the young man Frost saw in the corner. "Reen! Vin! Fetch clothes and some bread for these two. Not much, though. Don't want to empty our stocks for a couple mooching lugs."

The young man and the girl rose quickly to their feet and retreated into the next room. When they returned, Frost thanked them and slipped each of them a boxing as covertly as he could. He hoped they'd keep them to themselves.

Camon left the room as well and returned with a key and a roll of paper. "Here. Smallest safe house I own, and a map from here to it. Now get outta here."

"Oh thank you, Your Grace." Frost bowed mockingly before spitting on Camon's boot. The crew leader scowled and raised a hand to smack Frost, but the Mistborn Pushed on Camon's coin purse. The fattened crew leader backed off then.

"C'mon, Lady Jana. We're done here."

Jana was slightly shocked by the condescension of the conversation that was simmering under a thin layer of politeness. It was much like other interactions she had witnessed among powerful noblemen, but this was so much nearer the surface. She also noticed the small kindnesses Frost showed to the little girl and boy who brought a box out to them. It gave her hope that perhaps he wouldn't just leave her to fend for herself in an entirely new environment. Of course, Jana was beginning to formulate her own plan that did not end with her in a brothel or even a servant in another noble house.

As she and Frost turned away, Jana reached for his arm by instinct. She had barely brushed the fabric of his sleeve, however, before calling her hands back. This was not the place to fall back on courtly manners, Jana reminded herself. Things were different here. She looked back and noticed the tiny girl, eyes downcast, hair cut short. Very different indeed.

The two climbed the staircase again, their business done.


	5. Chapter 5 - Safehouse

CHAPTER 5 - Safehouse

Once out of earshot, Frost let loose on the crew leader. "Oh, how I hate him. So frugal, so selfish, acting like everyone owes him a favour! And cruel to his crew and brash in business and stupid in more ways than I thought one person ever could be... Ugh, I just want to choke him with his own ego sometimes! The world has no need for sorry excuses of men like him!"

Inexplicably, Jana started to smile. She really shouldn't have - Frost was ragging on one of the empire's most despicable creatures - but it was altogether relieving to hear him condemn the actions of that man. He really wasn't like them, as she had feared.

"I'm glad you saved his life anyway," Jana told Frost quietly, the first words she had spoken in minutes. "For now we have a place to go, hopefully safe from whatever nobles are going to be after us."

Frost sighed long and hard, putting aside his contention. "You're right. Let's go. We don't have much time before the sun beats down on us, and you need to get into something more fitting of the area." He glanced at Jana and properly look at her for the first time since their meeting. She was pretty, truthfully. He almost regretted being so arrogant at their first meeting. Almost. He still had a reputation to uphold, and right now his past and his feelings threatened to get in the way. "Follow me," he said simply.

As they passed through street after street, Jana began to notice a difference in the way Frost walked. He matched the skaa around him more easily, with a bowed head and slumped shoulders. Jana did her best to mimic the stride and divert the stares. Any one of those beggars could give her away to Wodard's men, who may still be trying to catch up with her. The less noticeable she was, the better. Of course, the clothing she carried in the box would help with that. She now doubted very much that the things she had brought with her, clothes that had seemed so fitting back in her manor, would be of any use.

Finally, they reached an inconspicuous house, looking for all the world abandoned.

Frost insterted the key he received from Camon into the door and turned. The door didn't budge. Frost gave it some extra encouragement, slamming his weight on the wood. It inched away from the frame just slightly. Frost tried again. Nearly there. Once more, he forced the door. It swung open and sent Frost stumbling.

"Well," he said, regaining his footing, "I suppose this is it." The room was nothing special by any definition, but it sat near the edge of the financial district, away from any Ministry offices or noble manors. "Make yourself at home."

A dark, windowless room lay before Jana. She blinked, having expected at least a table or something to furnish a tiny house. Instead, they got a literal hole in the ground, dusty, ash-filled, and completely empty save for a few bottles of liquor in the corner.

That was of no consequence, though. Jana steeled her face and followed Frost into the room. He shut and locked the door behind her, sealing them in complete darkness, save for a few thin bars of sunlight where the door didn't quite meet the wall around it. Jana untied the skirt she had bundled up and withdrew a pretty little oil lamp. Its luxury was incongruous with their humble surroundings, but at least there was light.

There, in a dingy room in the middle of nowhere, Jana started to feel safe. She sat down on a lumpy pile of ash and dust, completely ready to let sleep take her problems away, at least for a few hours.

"You look like you need some rest," Frost said in the part-sarcastic tone he had at their first meeting. He removed his mistcloak and balled it up, then handed it to Jana. "Use this as a pillow, if you want. I'm going to have a bite to eat, then do some reconnaissance."

"Just as long as you come back," Jana said, taking the mistcloak. If only her parents could see her now. They'd be horrified and only too willing to let her have that house out in the Southern Dominance they did nothing with.

In only a few minutes, Jana was sleeping off a day and a night's worth of continual stress.

Frost took out the food rations given to them by Camon. Inside he found a bundle of baywraps, two small bread loaves, and a water canteen. Once again, the 'grace' of that worm showed itself in all its ugliness. It would be enough, at least until Frost could buy more. He bit down on one of the wraps, and watched Jana fall asleep. He felt an obligation to her, though frankly, he could not explain why. Was it that he saw himself in her? Did he care for her? Did he hope to get more money out of a simple noblewoman? He had no idea what his own mind desired, and it bothered him. For the moment, he shook the thoughts away.

Frost finished the baywrap and put away the rest of the food before exiting onto the streets. He realized he had lost one dagger in his fight with the Thug. It wouldn't be cheap to replace, but he accepted the fact.

From what he could tell, the edge of the finance distrist was one of the more decent places in Luthadel to have a safe house. At least Camon was smart in this regard. Frost walked the steeets around the building to get a feel of the surrounding area. A few shops and market stalls for hand-made goods and mediocre services, but nothing fancy by any right. A few corpses lay in the streets too. They had been there for quite some time, for they had begun to smell. A beggar reached for Frost's coinpurse. He kept the sack away from the woman, but handed her a few boxings anyway and ensured she was not mugged for them the moment he left. /I guess we'll be safe long enough/ Frost concluded. He fought back the lingering pain of his ribs by burning more pewter, though his reserves already started to run dry again. He bought more water and clothes at nearby shops before returning to the safe house. He would need sleep soon himself.

Days later, the pair sat in the safehouse. They had recovered from their journeys sufficiently, and got bak to planning as soon as they were able. "So," Jana started, finishing the bland packet of food Frost had called a baywrap. It was the next day, and both of them were rested and in more suitable clothing. "I have a destination in mind, one that will be relatively safe. But..." she hesitated.

"But what?" Frost had managed to acquire a pair of stools through bartering with the local skaa, and he sat in one he set in the corner of the room.

"To be honest, I have no idea how to get there. I do know where it is," she hurried to say. "But I'm not extremely familiar with... transportation. I think I have enough money to get there, but I assume you'll just want to find a carriage or boat and drop me off so you can be on your way."

"Drop you off?" He hadn't considered what she might have thought to do next. The words 'drop me off' almost felt like a betrayal somehow. He shrugged it off and continued. "Well where is this place, then? What cardinal direction, if nothing else?"

"You have better things to do with your time than babysit me," Jana retorted. Surely he did. Mistborn didn't usually just sit around doing nothing, did they? "Anyway. The Southern Dominance. By carriage, at a leisurely pace, it takes a week to get there."

Frost stood, stretching his back. "And what waits for us there?"

"A plantation and house that my family owns. It's secret, so whoever takes over our affairs here in Luthadel won't know about it. They know me, though, and it's essentially self-sufficient, so it's a good option." Then Jana heard what Frost had said again. "Us? You're coming with me?"

With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, Frost's smart attitude returned. "Didn't I make that clear? You've made a bodyguard out of me, and it seems like you're in desperate need of a good one." He mustered the best bow he could. "I am at your command."

Jana narrowed her eyes in wariness. She wasn't going to complain, having Frost along, because he was right, but it seemed odd, him dropping what he must have been doing to go with her. She'd play along.

"Well, then, do you know what ways there are to get to the East? A barge willing to take passengers, maybe, or a carriage for hire?"

"We could fly again. You seemed to enjoy that." He smirked and winked, but shook himself serious again. "No, I have a few ideas. We'll discuss the better of them in a while. First I want to show you around, help you blend in a bit more."

"I..." Despite Jana having gained some measure of control in here, out there was a whole different story. She stood up, but shied back. "I was hoping I could just stay here." The statement sounded like a question.

"Are you sure? We could try to find some cheese or fruit, give you a break from bay wraps at some point." In reality, Frost simply wanted to spend time with this girl. He knew she was young, but then again so was he. And she had something about her that interested him. Even if they would only relate on a friendly level, something about her made him want to stay. Nobody he'd ever met before made him want to do that. He wanted to find out why he thought she was special.

But she could know none of that. She was a noblewoman, he was an illegal Mistborn. Hardly a reputable combination in any circle. "If you want to stay here, feel free. Just know we'll have to leave at some point if you really want to get out to the Southern Dominance."

Jana waffled. She knew that things would be different, of course she did! But that didn't mean the change was easy. And... she didn't want to be left alone. If Frost was around, she was going to be safe.

With new determination, and a confidence she knew she wouldn't be able to keep, Jana steadied her feet and hardened her eyes.

"I'll come with you."

Another week passed. The pair travelled around the Luthadel streets, formulating a plan to reach the Southern Dominance. "So our plan is to hitch a ride with one of my merchant contacts. We'll hide in his shipment cart when he leaves the city to pick up crops." They were making their way back to the safe house as they discussed. "I can meet with him tonight while you're asleep."

"That sounds like it will work. Of course, you're the expert, so if you think the idea is sufficient, I suppose I'll have to trust you." Jana nibbled at a small bit of cheese. She had never thought such a tiny bit of cheese could ever taste so good. After seeing how some people in Luthadel lived every day of their lives, she was more grateful than ever to have a place to return to, even a place as tiny and dirty as the single room they had been living in for almost two weeks.

"Well so long as everything goes according to plan, I assume this will work perfectly."


	6. Chapter 6 - Cart Ride

CHAPTER 6 - Cart Ride

The next day came much faster than either Frost or Jana expected. By nightfall, they both climbed into the back of a merchant's cart and hunkered down for some time.

Things were going along swimmingly - if a little uncomfortable - when the merchant's cart came to a wobbly stop. Though Jana couldn't see outside, she could hear the steps of a few people as they approached.

"Routine inspection," said one of them, a bored-sounding man.

The merchant didn't say anything, and apparently let them carry on. The cart didn't have anything in it except for some farm implements and the bundles that were being used to hide Jana and Frost. Things rattled around, and as the sounds got closer, Jana stopped breathing, hoping nobody would notice them under there.

Frost flared pewter and began burning his copper in case the garrison had any Seekers. He slowed his breathing, blood able to take less air with the pewter. Just in case, he grabbed hold of his one dagger.

"What all you got in the back?" One man asked. He stood to the left of the cart from what Frost could tell.

The merchant kept his replies short. "Feed for the nobles' livestock. They need it quick."

The garrison seemed to ignore the passive aggressive remark. They had little surface area to search, but refrained from lifting the cloth over the cart. For a brief second, Frost extinguished his Copper and instead burned Bronze. He checked for pulses nearby, but found nothing.

Jana felt Frost tense next to her the same instant she did, which actually calmed her down for reasons she couldn't quite pinpoint. Through a tiny hole in the cloth and break in the sacks, Jana could see a garrison soldier, not being the most attentive. His eyes swept over the hole. Jana found she couldn't move without shifting the sacks noticeably, so closed her eyes instead. After a second, she opened them again, hoping that the soldier hadn't noticed.

No such luck.

The soldier's green eyes held Jana's brown ones. He seemed to be debating whether to reveal them or not. Even considering the immediate consequences of being arrested or worse, Jana hated those few seconds. She couldn't do anything. Their fate was in that soldier's hands.

He turned away, a bored expression replacing the surprise. Nobody said anything for a few moments, until the first soldier gave orders.

"Draven," he barked. "Anything?"

"Nothing sir," Jana's soldier replied. She relaxed, but just a smidgen.

For a split second, Frost wondered how fun it would be to Push on every nearby piece of metal and send people flying. He quickly rid himself of the idea, however. He could hardly guarantee the strength, let alone the accuracy, of that sort of Push without actually seeing the items he would be Pushing. Not to mention the fact it would get them killed way too fast. Within a few more seconds, the cart was let go and kept moving with a jerk. Frost relaxed his tensed muscles and sighed. He sent a relieved grin to Jana.

Frost's smile was unexpected, and so honest that Jana had to smile back at him. The holdup and inspection was the worst obstacle Jana could have imagined, and they had conquered it. It was thrilling - heart-wracking and impossibly tense, but thrilling too. Her smile became more genuine.

"We did it," she whispered as quietly as she could.

Frost gave her a thumbs-up and a nod. They'd cleared one obstacle at least.

The further down the road they got, the more comfortable Frost felt with talking. He ventured to ask her, "Did you see someone you knew in that group?"

"No," replied Jana, slightly startled by the sudden question. "I just saw the one man, but he wasn't familiar at all."

Frost paused. "And he said nothing?"

"He said that he didn't see anything. But I know he saw my eyes, at least. He knew somebody was down here, but he kept us hidden." Jana sort of understood where Frost got his hesitance, but she was also confused by it. So what if that soldier had chosen to not give them away?

Frost nodded slowly. He was glad for the soldier's cooperation. He also wished he'd seen the man so he knew who to contact if he ever needed information on the garrison. "Well, if the garrison shows up later, we know who sent them." Frost tried making it obvious he was joking, by his tone. Though he was known at times to be very blunt.

"You two okay back there?" The merchant piped up.

Frost popped his head out and spoke back, "We're fine. Just engaging in conversation."

"Right, well you may want to save it for a few minutes. We should be stopping for the night soon and I'll need your help to set up camp."

"We're stopping? I thought you said this would be a non-stop trip." Frost hadn't expected this delay. He made sure his dissatisfaction came through in his tone.

Jana reached out and gripped Frost's sleeve to get his attention. "We can stop," she said, trying to be gentle but authoritative. "We're far away from the city. I'm sure lots of people stop on their travels." She hesitated, then started before Frost could object again. "And I'm sure your friend knows what he's doing, right?"

Frost almost moved to protest, but Jana's gaze softened him more quickly than he thought it could. "Alright," he said. "We'll stop up the road and continue at dawn."


	7. Chapter 7 - Campfire

CHAPTER 7 - Campfire

The merchant thanked Jana profusely as they stopped. Far too much, in Jana's opinion. She wasn't used to dealing with characters like this - nobles or shady criminals, mostly. This middle class of skaa was completely new to her, though she was happy that not everybody lived in the squalor she had seen the last couple weeks.

Some time later, they had set up a sort of camp. The cart was off the road, and the cloth tarp was tacked on the side, then pegged to the ashy ground, making a place to sleep that was protected from potential ashfalls. After eating what little dinner was available, the merchant went straight under the cart and fell soundly asleep, if his light snoring was any indication. Jana and Frost sat side-by-side, staring at the tiny orange fire that only grew brighter as the world around them darkened.

It was silent, save for the rustling of ash in the wind and the crackling of the fire.

"Today..." Jana began quietly. "Today was nice. Hard, yes, and definitely terrifying, but nice all the same. I like not being confined to a maximum of three houses."

"Confined to three houses?" Frost chuckled. "That must be a noble thing, because to me, having three houses is mot very confined." He attempted to keep the fire going, tossing in any scraps he could find and even finding pieces in the cart to use

Jana shrugged. "Yes, well, I was allowed home and to a few other young ladies' houses. I never went to a dress shop, never outside the little sector of the city I lived in at all. Maybe that's why I got so involved with the... less desirables of society." She glanced over at Frost, his hands busy tearing a piece of wood apart. "No offense."

"None taken. We are less desirable, and I can fully see why. Filthy, cunning, rude, heartless, concerned only about how we live to see tomorrow. It's sickening sometimes, but it's what we have to do." An image of that team of hazekillers flashed through his mind. He shook them out. Frost occupied himself, dodging the details of himself he knew he might have to reveal soon. If they were to surface, they could wait.

Sickening. "I... killed a man," Jana remembered. "So did you. But if we hadn't, we'd be dead ourselves." She stopped, unsure how to express the feeling inside her. It was horrible, and sickening, yes, but also immensely satisfying. Jana had chosen the harder path, but was sitting there talking to a Mistborn, of all people, alive and mostly well. "I never actually thought I'd be faced with that choice, but once I was, it wasn't even a choice anymore. You know?"

Maybe the time way right to open up. How dangerous could it be, out here? No need to hold back, at least on some of the details. "I do know. Personally. But you should just be glad you didn't kill a member of your family."

Jana blinked. "What?" The word was a gut reaction.

"You could probably guess that wasn't my first kill. I wouldn't be a very good Mistborn if it was. But..." Frost gulped hard, his eyes fixed on the flickering embers. "Did you ever hear the story of a young noble boy named Efrossine Qatan?"

"Qatan..." mused Jana, reaching into her mind for the word. "It sounds familiar, but I can't recall why." She kept her voice low, hopefully kind. This emotion from Frost was authentic, unlike most of the rakish winks he offered regularly. There was something soft about it, something Jana hadn't seen before. She didn't want to disturb him by speaking loudly or interrupting.

"The story tells of a young noble boy who, after being estranged by his father, kills the man in his sleep. The boy then is left to live a miserable life on the streets. It's a true story. But... They got a few things wrong.

"You see, I'm Efrossine Qatan. I was, or rather I am, the young half-noble who'd been kicked out by his father. But I... I didn't just up and murder my father. It's like with that thug- that pewterarm the other day, I had no choice."

Any small movement could break the tenuous peace they had, Jana thought. She waited before deciding to bite, ask the obvious question. "Why?"

To both their surprise, a tear welled up in Frost's eye. He choked on his next words. "I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay with my brothers and my father. Your family's supposed to take care of you, aren't they? But they didn't want me. I wasn't an Allomancer, or so they thought. I was smart enough to hide my powers from them, at least. I was more afraid of what they'd do to me if I was Mistborn than the consequences of not being Mistborn. They kept me around for a while out of social obligation. My father wanted me gone, made sure I knew it. Every night he'd tell me, 'don't get comfortable. You' ll be out on the streets tomorrow.' But I still loved him. What else do you think of your father when you're young?

"The night he tried to banish me, I slept in the hall. He found me and tried to cut my throat. Just my luck, I had already awoken with a nightmare. So I was ready when attacked me, and... I somehow managed to take his knife and stab him in the gut. Looking back now, I think it might've been a bit of pewter. So, he died right in front of me, cursing me as he choked on his own blood. I didn't leave his side all night. My brother found me the next morning, and literally threw me out. Though I'd spent all night over his corpse sobbing, I was gone before I could even understand what happened."

He glanced over and met Jana's gaze for a moment. Their eyes lingered on each other's fot just a second too long for Frost's comfort, and he turned away. "I didn't want to kill my father. I wanted to stay with him, try to make him love me. But I was the son of a skaa woman he'd never taken care of, a failed attempt at Mistborn lineage, and a burden anyway."

Jana could see it. Lord Ruler, she could see it, as surely as if she'd been standing there watching. It was, somehow, all too easy to imagine Frost a young boy, eager for love. She understood that, at least. And how did Frost manage to hide his powers? Was that even possible to do? Jana was about to ask, but it seemed insensitive and trite. She didn't want to spoil the moment.

The fire was dying. Frost had stopped adding scraps of burnable material, starving the flame. The silence was growing thick.

"The desire for acceptance. I get that." Frost's drawn face turned towards Jana's, lit dimly by the embers of a fire that had never really burned to begin with. She looked down, uncomfortable with his gaze. "I never felt like my family cared. But you saw what happened. That's - " Jana struggled to admit the obvious. Though she knew she had it easier than many, what worth did her possessions have without someone to appreciate her? "That's my tragedy. They won't ever care. Not much of a story in comparison. I don't understand you, of course not. But maybe," Jana timidly met Frost's eyes again. "Maybe in some small way, I see you."

Whether either of them expected it or not, Frost shifted over and brought Jana into his arms. He didn't care how she'd react, what he may have really felt or not, how cold and dark it had become, the Mists, their pasts... Nothing mattered in that moment. He simply wanted to feel cared for, and the warmth of an embrace.

Despite the surprise spouted from the action, it came as a grestly needed comfort. It wasn't strange or forced, as most of her physical contact with others had been. It was good to be cared for, watched over. She had begun to feel that when Frost had declared his intention to stay with her, too. Nobody had ever cared enough to protect her, not really. Not genuinely. Jana settled into the embrace, and even reached a hand around Frost's arm to try to show him some of the protection and comfort she was feeling. As they sat in the frigid night together, the fire faded out, snuffed by the gently falling ash.


	8. Chapter 8 - Morning

CHAPTER 8 - Morning

Frost awoke the next morning to hazy sunlight on his face, and arms still around him. As he carefully opened his eyes, he learned Jana had curled up to him in the night. He chuckled, taking a glance at the young woman. In her sleep, the worry and hard attitudes of her waking self dissolved away and left a peaceful, content young lady. It was quite the contrast, but he thought it fitting.

Not even the merchant had awoken yet, so Frost stayed where he was and gave Jana a soft nudge. "Good morning," he whispered.

Thankfully, Jana's sleep had been dreamless. She was close to Frost still, which embarrassed her for nebulous reasons, but she didn't pull away. Well, she didn't pull everything away. Just a hand to wipe her sleepy eyes.

"Good morning," she said back.

"Was that your first night sleeping outside?" Frost asked, trying to break any potential tension

"Actually, yes." Jana followed Frost's lead and spoke candidly. "Um, should we get going again? And do we need to hide anymore, since we're out of the city?"

"Not likely," Frost admitted. He sat up carefully, blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Seems unless we wake our friend, we may be stuck here for a while." Frost picked up a stone and tossed it at the tarp hanging over the cart. Settled ash puffed into the air and the merchant rustled underneath the tarp.

"Hey Lonnith! Thinking of getting a move on or what?"

"Of course, of course," the merchant muttered, probably still half asleep. "I'm moving..." His voice crackled.

Jana got to her feet and brushed off what ash she could, though her dress was going to be heavily stained. /Oh well/ she thought. She blended in better now.

There wasn't much to do to pack up, and soon they were on their way. Jana sat in the back of the cart, surprisingly comfortable against the sacks of feed. Frost sat next to her, their silence surprisingly comfortable.

For one of the few times in his life, Frost let himself enjoy the view behind them. The city of Luthadel looked so small from this distance, despite only being a day's ride from Copper Gate. Kredik Shaw's reach still seemed infinite from outside the walls, but now it seemed to grasp less tightly. They past small farming villages, most with noble plantation manors, or their way to Jana's secret home. He felt eager to see what it would be like. That eagerness, mixed with the new bond he felt with Jana and the excitement of not having been in a mansion in decades, made his anxieties cease and his joy grow.

After another six days time, Frost and Jana had finally arrived at their destination. The cart came to a slow halt, and the two passengers prepared themselves to leave. The merchant went about his actual business as his passengers took care of theirs.

Jana glanced around the yard as people came to unburden the cart of the merchant's goods. Everything seemed in order. Things were moving as they should be. No coaches or unusual horses were housed, meaning that there were no strange nobles who had come to claim the house in the Borlyn hiatus.

Only a little bit nervous, Jana led the way to the grand front door and knocked. It almost seemed ridiculous that she would have to - her memories of the place were of more freedom than she had been allowed in Luthadel, of kinder people and more flexible rules.

Frost admittedly did not feel comfortable out in the open like this. It was one thing to be in Luthadel, where you could slip into a crowd in seconds. Out here, with no crowds and no apartment buildings anywhere in sight, he felt extremely exposed. He checked the buckle on his mistcloak to ensure it was not falling off. "So, um... How are you going to explain me away?"

Jana had a plan for that, but she didn't get to explain it to Frost before the door was answered by an older, plump woman, who shrieked when she saw Jana.

"We only heard the news yesterday!" Lotta cried, coming forward to greet them. "We weren't sure what was going to become of us, but now! Oh, our dear little Lady Jana, grown up and come to us." The woman noticed Frost, and her eyes narrowed. "We also heard you were kidnapped by an evil Allomancer."

Jana almost laughed. Lotta wore her heart on her sleeve and had no concern for subtlely. She stood ever so slightly in front of Frost, blocking him from the hot glare Lotta was directing towards him.

"This is the Allomancer they saw," Jana said. "But he was helping me get away, Lotta."

Lotta's face opened up again, but she was still wary, it seemed. "I can believe that, but who is he?"

Uncomfortably, Jana turned to Frost. He would be expected to answer for himself, and she didn't know if he wanted to use his real name or not.

"My work name is Frost, m'lady. But if you prefer you may call me..." Frost hesitated. Partially to remember the few noble pleasantries he'd learn in his youth, partially to find a name to use. "You may call me Efrossine." He hoped his real name would suffice, and not cause any suspicion. "I apologize deeply for our mess of a condition. It was a necessary measure to escape from the city without followers."

Frost's words quickly softened Lotta's hesitance. She hurried them both inside and led them straight to rooms where they could get clean.

"I'm so sorry we don't have more servants around," Lotta kept saying. "We didn't have an advance announcement of your arrival - but how could we have?" She laughed. "Well, Lady Jana, we have some good clothing for you, of course, but Lord Efrossine will have to use Lord Lukas's old things -" Here she stopped, looking distraught.

"I have no issue with that, miss." Unsure of what stopped her, he attempted to calm her without addressing his worst-case scenario.

Lotta smiled, though she seemed to have trouble covering sadness. Jana noted that Frost looked vaguely alarmed by the woman's tireless tirade, but thought he did a good job holding his composure anyway.

The servants that were around rushed around upstairs, preparing rooms and heating water. It wasn't long before Jana and Frost were sitting at the less formal breakfast table, clean and in only slightly ill-fitting clothing. Without much surprise, Jana noted that Frost actually looked pretty nice in the suit he now wore.

Cold meat and bread was on the table, a veritable feast after the constant parade of tasteless baywraps. The servants left them alone, other tasks to attend to now that they had guests. Jana was comfortable for the first time in weeks.

Frost at the moment could barely touch his food. He worried Lotta might have realized who had come with Jana to this manor. How well known was his story? Did he have anything to honestly worry about? He glanced around, checking for servants, and asked what was on his mind. "What do you think she realized? You think it was about me?"

"Realized?" Jana cocked her head. "Her pause? I... I just think she was remembering what happened. To Lukas, I mean. But you do bring up a good point. I wonder if she's heard the story. Even if she has, though, I'm not sure she'll connect it to you. If she does, she'll probably wait and judge you for you rather than rumors. She doesn't like gossip much and avoids listening to it."

Thankfully, that did put Frost's mind at ease. Maybe aside from being discovered as an exiled noble, he also felt pressured to impress this girl and her family or friends, however few they may be. He switched subjects. "Well, I know one thing. I haven't eaten this well in at least fifteen years."

Frost's statement wasn't a surprise to Jana, but it was a little awkward. She smiled, since it had been said jokingly.

"Well," she said. "Depending on how long you're planning to stick around, you might have to get used to it."

Frost sent Jana an inquisitive grin, one eyebrow raised. "That sounded almost like an invitation," he joked. He brought another serving of food to his mouth, but kept his eyes on her with an air of charisma.

Jana shrugged. "If I'm to survive out here, I'll have to let people know I'm not dead or... otherwise. I'm thinking a little ball, which means I'll have to invite people such as Lord Perot who think I'm up for grabs as soon as they ask. If, you know, there's someone else around, someone with an air of intimidation as strong as, say, yours, they'd be much too scared to actually go through with it." Jana casually took a bite of another sandwich. Her third - she had certainly been hungry.

Frost simply continued to smile. "If you're asking me to be your company to this ball, I accept the invitation." He stood and gave the closest thing he could remember to a bow. "Only problem will be that I can't dance for the life of me."

The bow was so ridiculous, Jana had to smile. She might have snorted a bit, too.

"Don't worry," she assured him. "The butler here is a wonderful instructor." Jana took a moment to briefly imagine Frost and the butler dancing, which made her laugh again. No, if he was to learn, and if the butler was still around to teach, then it would be a team effort - Jana dancing, and the butler trying to explain how to do it.

"Well," Frost began, "I'll do my best. For now though, what do you plan to do from here on out?"

"This plantation is virtually self-sufficient right now, and doesn't produce up to its capacity. I can expand the production easily, then export and begin making a profit."

"I see. Well if you ask me, it sounds like you'll need someone to protect your property and your interests. Would I be wrong in saying that?"

Jana could see where this was going. Or she thought she could. "No, you would not be wrong."

"And I'll add, I have had experience leading people before. I could enlist a guard for your property." He had finished his meal and pushed the dishes he used forward. "And one more thing. If you ask me, you need a personal guard. Someone who can accompany you to balls and economic meetings. With the events of the last few weeks, you could very well be in a lot of danger."

Jana raised an eyebrow. "Are you offering to be that person?"

"I'm simply stating the facts! And emphasizing the fact that I am a self-made Mistborn who has already protected you from much personal harm out of the kindness of my heart."

"And the possibility of work in the future. Not to mention a couple sandwiches," Jana laughed, gesturing to their empty plates.

"You're right, I cannot turn down sandwiches." Frost chuckled. "So, not to be forward, but I formally offer my services as your personal guard and thank you for your consideration."

Jana leveled a look at Frost. "Considering the last few weeks, I wouldn't say that's very forward. And seeing as there's nobody else jostling for the position, there's a very good chance you're going to get it. Since you're applying."

With less careless jest and more appreciation, Frost smiled again. He bowed his head. "Thank you, Lady Borlyn." He excused himself from the table and asked, "I wonder if the staff could be convinced to draw me a bath."


	9. Chapter 9 - Ball

CHAPTER 9 - Ball

It took two entire months to get things set up for even the slight possibility of a ball. First, they had to send for more servants who could plan these things. Then they had to send more servants to go get things they needed, not to mention the influx of workers that started to come in. Jana used all of the atium she had taken from her house to finance the growth. She liked being far away from Luthadel.

Finally, it was time to set up, send invitations, then begin the festivities. Jana walked into the ballroom one day, where Frost was waiting for her.

He had a fine suit tailored for him specifically, fitting to all his proportions and shapes. "So, m'lady? Are all the preparations made?"

"All but me," Jana replied, glancing to her casual dress. She still had need to change. "Am I glad I slept in today. It will be a long night..."

"It seems so," Frost agreed. He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Are you feeling okay about it?"

"Yes, yes," Jana said, brushing him off. "It will just be strange, engaging in these normal activities when-" she broke off, but quickly regained control. "When my family won't be around to force me to stay."

"Will that be okay?"

Jana smiled wryly. "You'll be around instead. You're going to make me stay for the whole thing, won't you?"

Frost laughed, growing a smile, then thought on the question. "We'll see how I feel later on. Remember, I haven't been around this many nobles ever in my life. This may take me a while to readjust."

Only two hours or so passed until people started to arrive. Jana had made her way downstairs more quickly than she had expected. Her blue dress was new, but it was similar in construction to the clothing she had worn the week they traveled. It was more comfortable, she found, and not entirely recognizable as lower class or even anything too out of the range of fashion.

The manor had become an overflowing fountain of wealth. That was the way of such productions - stained glass windows, limelights, finely carved tables and plenty of servants. It was familiar, but Jana felt disconnected from the lavishness. It didn't seem real, somehow.

Frost had taken her arm once all the guests had filed into the hall. He breathed deeply and steadily, keeping his anxieties down as much as he could. As he and Jana took their seats at the front of the hall, Frost indulged at gazing out across the crowd. Everyone looked extravagant. Their gowns and suits all complementary to each other's. He was especially impressed, however, by the subtleties of Jana's outfit and the equally subtle features of his own. They too, as the 'head couple' of sorts, had matching outfits. He leaned over to speak to her.

"Quite something, what you managed to put together here."

"Very little of it was me, except the money." Jana gladly took the opportunity to look at something other than the party. Terrismen, specifically hired just for this event to both show wealth and prevent dangerous gossip between guests, began to serve dinner. "Are you planning on using your own name?"

"I think so. I believe most people have forgotten about the Qatan name by now, thankfully. And despite its connections, my old name has some comfort to it." Frost gladly ate his food, recognizing how rare this opportunity was - or perhaps wasn't anymore - for him.

Jana smiled to turn Frost's attention from her, but sighed deeply when she was on her own again. "We're in for a storm," she muttered. The noble lady turned her focus to her food. It was good, but not spectacular. The same could be said for the majority of the night - sufficient, beautiful, but nowhere near a Great House.

Sitting alone with her thoughts, soon Jana turned back to Frost. "The dancing and socializing will start soon. Do you feel up for it?"

"I think so," Frost said, finishing his meal. "Any objectives to complete in the socializing?"

"Simply make it clear that I'm okay, you're not evil and a noble, and that we're here to build a business." She sighed. "Hopefully we can avoid any unwanted attention."

"If you have anyone in mind that I should specifically, avoid or get close to, now may be the best time to say so." Frost had already begun to clean up from his meal, and felt eager to have less eyes staring him down. He checked his new pocket watch, attempting to look busy to the crowd.

"I don't think any Great Houses would have answered the invitation, though I'm required to send one to them. If there are any, avoid them. They're crafty and will embroil smaller houses into their plots, and the smaller houses don't usually come out swinging."

"I'll keep an eye out. And for you? Is there anyone you need to see?"

"Specifically Volder... they have some connections to good shippers. I see them..." Jana looked around at the guests who were beginning to get up and dance. "Over there. They're not quite done with their dinner yet."

Frost gave Jana a nod and bowed as he left. "Then I will see you later, my lady. Good luck tonight." He left the front of the hall to greet guests and engage in conversation. He hoped he would prove skilled at "socializing".

Schemes

When Frost left, Jana found herself suddenly alone, something that had been unusual during the last few weeks. Various people came up to talk to her as she walked around, asking about Frost and expressing their manufactured condolences about her family. She answered nosy questions as vaguely and safely as she could.

While she continued around the ballroom, Jana spotted someone out of the corner of her eye. She stopped dead - then continued so as to not show her surprise. A great house had indeed come. Venture. One of the biggest and wealthiest, if not number one. What possible purpose would they have showing up? Jana made her roundabout way towards them to greet them as was expected, hoping that things would go well.

Frost had been carefully keeping an eye on Jana the whole night. He watched her make a careful approach toward a young man of obvious high standing, then followed her toward whoever he was.

The young man, apparently of one of the great houses, indeed looked regal by his outfit. However the rest of his ensemble seemed to be in shambles. His hair matted down in all the wrong places and sticking up everywhere else, he carried a book under his arm and a sort of case in his hands. He nodded to Frost as they approached each other. "Good evening, Lord...?" The young man said.

"Qatan. It is an honour to make your acquaintance." Frost bowed slightly in respect to his political superior. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"Elend Venture. And please, don't be so formal. I'm only here at my father's command. He wanted me to give you this." The young Venture extended his arms, presenting the case.

On the outside, Frost showed his gratitude, smiling and thanking Lord Venture for his gift. Internally, he felt highly suspicious. He would inspect the contents in depth later.

"Send your father my thanks, Lord Venture. We would gladly accept relations with your great house."

Venture seemed absent, giving half-conscious responses. "Yes, of course. Oh, and he also told me to tell you to 'watch out'. Or something to that effect. He says the world you're entering is dangerous for 'those like yourself'. I trust you know what he means, I won't question it." His hands free, Elend took the book from under his arm and turned away. "Good evening, Lord Qatan."

The night wore on, one tiring interaction after another. Jana stayed up and about until most everything had been put away and cleaned up, and every guest had either gone home or to a nearby house to stay the night. It was against etiquette to stay at the host's manor.

"I would hazard a guess and say we were successful tonight," Jana told Frost as she sat down on a couch. "Other than the strange appearance of the Venture heir, nothing went against the plan."

Frost sat in an armchair, hunched over, head in his hands. He stared blankly at the floor. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." The case the young Venture gave him sat in his lap, the heir's words swirling around Frost's mind like a whirlwind.

"What is that?" Jana asked suspiciously.

"Our surprise visitor gave us a gift from his father. He sent us a message, telling us to 'watch out,' and that 'the world we're getting into is dangerous'." Frost hadn't bothered to open the case yet.

Jana scowled. "What does he mean by that? We're not doing anything different than what my family's always been doing."

"You think he already knows about me?"

"Now that I have the evidence, it wouldn't be extremely difficult to put together, I think," Jana said slowly. "If he knows the story about you and heard about a Mistborn with me, then heard the name you're using, he might know. But what difference would it make?"

As Jana continued to speak, Frost finally worked up the courage to open the case he'd been given.

"Oh my... Lord Ruler." He sat in disbelief. Within the case, were a number of things. The first he noticed was an obsidian dagger, identical to the one he lost at Keep Borlyn months ago. It had been left bloodied and unpolished. Next he saw two small portraits - One of his own family, crossed out in blood, and the same done to portraits of Jana's family. To the left of the dagger, a black velvet pouch filled with a surprising amount of atium beads. Finally, on the lid of the case, a note left by Straff himself reading, "Good luck, " the high noble's signature and house seal imprinted at the bottom of the note.

Jana sat in stunned silence, broken off by the box. "I don't understand," she said, when she finally regained her voice.

"I think he's killed off our families, Jana. I've delivered a few similar 'gifts' in my time as a mercenary, and that's always what they're meant for." Frost set the box down on the end table next to him and stood, approaching Jana. "We never did find out who sent those mercenaries who tried to kill you, did we? I mean, there was that nobleman, but why would he come personally unless he had good reason to? Venture must have bribed him in order to cover his tracks."

It chilled Jana to think about that night again, especially to consider the possibility of fouler play than she had thought at the time.

"But why Borlyn? We're not important, not in the grand scheme of things. Not much wealth, not much power, and the only Allomancer I know of was my grandmother, and she was just a Smoker."

"I could ask the same of my own house. After all, I'm the first Allomancer in generations. What is happening here?" Frost set the box down beside him, stood, and paced the room. His eyes drifted to the ceiling. "There must be something more to this."

"Like what?" Jana was getting truly frustrated. "What possible reason could a Great House like Venture have to kill off two minor families?"

"We'll just have to find the answer to that ourselves, I suppose."

Nightfall beset the new Borlyn manor. Jana lay sleeping in the main bedroom, but Frost could not bring himself to fall asleep. He rolled a large bead of atium in his hand, staring blankly at the base of the wall across from him. Images of his family flashed before his eyes. He tried to search through them for any reason why a Great House would target him or them. Nothing came to him. He attempted to rest, to no avail. The metal beads, the dagger, and the face of his father continued to haunt him.

After another hour, Frost had become fed up with contemplating. He decided to answer his questions himself. He donned his mistcloak, wrote a note for Jana saying he would be back by the next afternoon, packed a stock of pewter and atium, then set off back to Luthadel.

Jana woke up unexpectedly. A quick glance outside told her that dawn was approaching, but hadn't quite arrived yet. What had woken her? Jana had just about decided "nothing" when she caught sight of a note shoved under her door. Was that it? She picked it up and read it quickly.

Frost was really cut up about the whole Venture scandal, apparently, and determined to get to the bottom of it. For her part, Jana was indeed frightened and curious, but she also wanted to stay beneath the Ventures' notice. Going to confront them seemed foolhardy to Jana, and she was not a little afraid for Frost. What could either of them do?

Frost dragged pewter as he darted across the countryside. Every hundred meters, he threw a clip behind him and Pushed off it, propelling himself faster toward Luthadel. If not for pewter he would have tripped and fallen hours ago. Though he could feel the exhaustion settling in, he did not stop. He kept pushing himself forward, closer to his destination: his own family's old keep, which had been repurposed by the Ventures to become a storehouse. After learning the skills of a Mistborn, he checked up on the building each month for years to see its condition. Never did he think he would have to go back.

He approached Zinc Gate at blinding speeds. Checking for metal below him, he found the bars forced into the ground by so many Mistborn before him, and Pushed off the nearest one. He shot into the air with a crack and, if not for the pewter he burned, may have fainted from the force. He Pushed next off a torch mote and thrust forward. Kredik Shaw loomed over him now, as menacing as ever, and he felt discouraged the more he looked at the obsidian-like spires. He turned his gaze away and soldiered on.

The long dilapidated Keep Qatan sat far to the west, near the edge of the Hotel District. Covering this much ground so fast was no easy task, even for a Mistborn. He checked his reserves. Still some leftover duralumin, he thought. He burned it, extinguishing everything but Steel, and blasted through the air. The wind around his face pulled his skin back slightly, and building below him blurred. He did not dare try to access another metal vial. He would just have to use Iron to control his descent.

Burning pewter again, his balance came back to him just as he needed it. The towers of Keep Hasting were fast approaching. Thank the Lord Ruler Hasting made his roofing out of metal. Frost Pulled on the domed roof, lurching himself to the right. His face skimmed inches away from a looming tower. He searched for a metal line ahead of him and pulled again, now swinging through the city more than flying. The thought of a spider popped into his head, and he smirked. He continued on. Not far now.

The flicker of oil lamps near the ground drew his attention. The tin he burned let him look through the mists far enough to see the burnt ruins of his old keep. He Pulled on a window latch below and raced toward the ground. An unwise choice, for within his line of descent he found no metal he could slow himself on. He cursed, throwing his weight forward, changing his arc to a longer one. He hoped the new direction and a flare of pewter would be enough.

As the ground quickly approached, Frost brought his legs far our in front of him, flared pewter extra hard, and hoped for the best.

The impact came. Frost slammed to the cobble street and slid from one end of the capsized ballroom to the other. His leg felt broken, but he ignored it as best he could. He would worry about his bones later. A guard turned the corner. He had been alerted by the commotion, no doubt. He froze as he saw the source of it. "M-Mistborn!" he yelped, turning the other way. Frost downed another metal vial and Pulled the halberd from the soldier's hands. He let go and kept running. Smart choice, Frost thought. Won't get you far. He burned more pewter to compensate for the the pain tin brought him, and threw himself into a sprint.

His objective lay ahead of him, but it was not the soldier. He would deal with them if he had to. Instead, he strode for the stone manor ahead. He swallower another vial of metals. Barely enough steel for a dozen pushes, he noticed. His mistcloak flailed behind him. Cursing himself for being so wasteful with his steel, he glanced up to the stone brick building he ran to. Just as I remember it. Aside from the part where it was burnt out. Charred wood stunk in the dense air.

One guard tossed a stone bola at Frost's feet. The tool skimmed his right leg. He nearly tripped, but had the luck to have it miss his other leg. It clattered across the stained cobbles. Frost kept running. He thanked the Lord Ruler for pewter. Men in armor shoved by each other to prepare for Frost's approach. One tried to sound a horn. Frost shoved that horn down the man's throat with a deft Push. He choked and fell to his knees. Why so much need for steel?

Another guard shot an arrow from the roof. Metal-tipped. Idiots. It glided through the air, aim true. Were it not for Allomancy, it would have impacted and put the Mistborn out. Frost Pushed it aside with ease. Now to scale the wall. The Mistborn slowed as he reached the wall. He caught some of his breath, sucking in air by the gallon. Another arrow flew at him, which he dodged with ease. Dropping a coin, he Pushed and shot into the air. The cloak behind him whipped at his bare feet. The soldiers in the ramparts stared in terror. They backed up the higher he rose. As Frost landed, he dropped a handful of coins at his feet and Pushed them outward. The nearby men collapsed and held tight to their maimed legs. Only a few Pushes left.

A stained glass window to Frost's right gave him an idea. A special entrance. Retrieving another coin from his pouch, he Pushed it into the hall below. Next he grabbed a handful of coins. He Pushed off the one below, shot into the air, tossed his handful beneath him, and Pushed again. The glass shattered into crystalline shards. They rained down over the men below, along with the pelting coins. Two men dropped. Their heads spurted blood and their legs twitched. The others darted for cover. Frost descended into the hall and stopped himself on the coins below. He suspended himself in midair, the hood of his cloak up. Steel's almost gone. And I don't have any to refill on. He cursed himself again. Nothing he could do about it now.

"Mistborn! " Shouted a brash guard. "Return to the ground! Lord Venture will not stand for this trespass!"

Frost chuckled - he put on his fake air of confidence. His steel reserves ran out, and he dropped to the ground, his mistcloak puffing out around him. He kept his mouth sealed as the soldiers approached. "Surrender, and we'll make this easier." Playing along, Frost raised his hands above his head. The guards tentatively raised their weapons to the Mistborn, and a few grabbed hold of his arms. All of their gear is metal, he thought. I thought Straff was smarter than this. He experimented with the soldiers by Pulling on their armor. They all stumbled forward a step, but instantly tightened their grip on him. He laughed, but ceased his toying. "You're not making this any better for yourself," said the main soldier.

"I know," Frost told the men. "I don't need it to be easy."

"Your backtalk will only work against you."

"I can at least try to give myself a challenge, can't I?"

"Hold your tongue! Despite what you think, you're not in control here." The pure authority in his low voice pierced through Frost's confidence. "Now silence yourself, or see punishment." He stopped playing around and shut his mouth, as requested. The Mistborn burned bronze, hoping to confirm a suspicion. It turned out to be just that, for he found no Allomantic pulses. Maybe duralumin would help, he thought. Extinguishing his pewter, Frost had been glad the guards supported him. Exhaustion hit him instantly. He burned bronze again, now giving a flare of duralumin as well. In the distance, somewhere in the building, a faint buzz rung in Frost's ears. Is that... Copper? The pulse was like nothing else he had ever heard before. He blinked, and as his eyes opened, his bronze fizzled out. He would replace it later. For now, he restarted his pewter burn and kept his guard up.

The soldiers escorted Frost further into the manor, toward where he thought he remembered his father's study being. He burned copper. A flicker of lamplight shone down the marble corridor. He tensed. Why, he could not say. It almost felt like... Zinc? That's impossible. With copper, I should be safe from zinc. Something in the manor was extremely off, and he had walked directly into the middle of it. I think I need to get out of here. "Is there someone you're taking me to see?" Frost asked.

The guard captain turned his head. "Our head of security, you could say. He likes to know about any trespassers."

"Is he Mistborn?" A dangerous question to ask, but he had little to lose.

"Good guess. You should feel right at home with him, shouldn't you?"

Frost smirked, hiding his internal concern. "I don't need a Mistborn to feel at home here." He had no worry for if he could say too much. At the end of the night, either he or they would be dead. Secrets are no good to the dead. "You work for Venture, you said? How's that?" Small talk had a way of easing tension. Maybe it would help him. And maybe some brass would help him too. He attempted his best blanket Soothe on the group, trying to calm them. Though emotional metals had never been his strong suit, the Soothe seemed to work. The soldiers relaxed their postures a bit and breathed more casually. And none of them looked suspicious. So much for Venture's rock-solid soldiers.

"He's as paranoid as he is authoritative," the main one said. "I don't understand what he wants us to guard here, but he's adamant about it to the point of sending his personal Mistborn to oversee our efforts."

Frost knew of few Mistborn in Straff's employ. Though the more he thought on it, one came to his mind. He used the shadows better than any other Mistborn he knew of and had impeccable power with steel. He could balance on a single coin with no struggle. Nobody knew his name, only that he was ruthless, merciless, and a master Allomancer. Frost tensed again. He really could die tonight if he didn't play his cards right. He knew already there was a possibility, as he had for most of his adult life. But now it grew so much more apparent. With soldiers all around him and the door ahead, he took the obvious choice and continued on.

The main soldier knocked on the door, light spilling from the cracks around its frame. The door slid open, with nobody there to open it directly. Behind a desk in the middle of the room stood a pale, broad man with jet black hair and menacing, apathetic eyes. "Who'd you bring me?" he asked, staring seemingly into Frost's very soul. The smaller Mistborn froze.

"This Mistborn broke in through the ballroom skylight and killed a few of the men. He surrendered to us, so we brought him here for you to deal with." The guard captain shoved Frost forward. He stood alone now, arms free. Checking his reserves, he realized just how little pewter he had left. Not to mention his lack of steel and bronze. I may have been a bit too brash, he thought.

"Interesting. So," the larger Mistborn began, "Who are you? Why'd you decide to come here of all places?" He rounded the desk, his eyes focused on Frost with steely concentration. He held an obsidian dagger in his hand, a more rugged look to it than Frost's own.

Frost stood straight, despite his growing anxiety. "I received a message from your employer telling me to watch my back. So that's what I'm doing."

The large man tensed. He punched his own stomach three times in reaction, eyes filled with fire, and returned mostly to normal. He also ran his dagger across the top of his forearm. The blood from the wound dribbled down his arm as he continued. "Ah, so you're the one who got in the way at Keep Borlyn those months ago. I'll say, I'm impressed. If you were anyone else, you'd already be long dead." The man approached Frost and stood directly in front of him. "I think he wants to keep you alive a little while longer, to see how you hold up. He wants to stick his dog on you one of these days, but not quite yet." He pointed to himself as the word 'dog' left his mouth. "Though I'm debating cutting his fun short."

Frost burned iron, checking for metals in the room. There seemed to be a paperweight behind Straff's 'dog'. He could Pull that to himself and hopefully knock the other Mistborn out in the process. But the risk was too great. He would have to bide his time.

"Then again," the dark figure continued, "I don't feel like getting messy tonight. Guards, take him upstairs and give him some food and some metals. We'll send him on his way back to his noblewoman in the morning."

The guard captain gave an affirmative nod and grabbed Frost's arm again. He wrenched himself free. "Wait," Frost insisted. "Answer me one thing. Why is your employer targeting me and Lady Borlyn?"

The dog faced about and returned to his place behind his desk. "My father does whatever's necessary to protect his interests. Including getting rid of the competition. His business affairs are more important to Luthadel than we realize." As he turned back around, the dog gave an unsettling smirk. "He did it to your families once, and he'll certainly do it again." With a wave of his hand, the dog had his guards pull Frost away.

"And why do you serve him? You could kill him easily and take his place in the most powerful house in the Final Empire."

"Me?" The Mistborn let out a deep laugh and Pushed a touch on the soldiers' armor. They stumbled back a step. Frost in turn tripped back. "I couldn't run a noble house if I wanted to. I'm simply Straff's blade." He paused again as his eyes went wild. "Come on men. Get him out of here already."

Frost gave little protest as he walked out of the room. He tried his best to process the new information he received. All this... Just to maintain his business? Frost didn't understand why he was so surprised. This was how all nobles operated. But killing off whole families just to ensure minimal competition - one only dared to do this in the most desperate of cases. Then again, Frost himself had taken on similar jobs for the right pay. He had no reason to argue. He submitted, for now, to his captors. Jana would want to hear the news.


	10. Chapter 10 - Rough Reunion

CHAPTER 10 - Rough Reunion

Breakfast that morning was a soup. Jana wasn't particularly fond of breakfast soup, but she let it slide. The normal staff had worked hard to prepare and execute the ball last night. They didn't need a picky noblewoman pestering them.

Jana stirred at the soup, not really seeing the thick swirls of yellow. Mostly, she was annoyed at Frost for taking so long. Well, that and going in the first place. It was dangerous, not to mention wasteful. Until they started turning a profit at this old estate, they would have to keep expenses low. Even though Frost had likely lived much of his life in poverty, Jana was willing to bet that a lot of money had passed through his hands, living as a mercenary as he had.

Deeper inside, Jana was also worried. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but the odds that Frost would actually come back were fairly low. Lord Ruler, he was going to confront /Venture/ of all houses. Their resources didn't just extend to fancy balls and many skaa. They also probably hired lots of Allomancers. In fact, Jana knew they did. She wasn't happy to say it, but she had sent a few spies and Allomancers out to them and had only gotten silence in return. They were all probably dead. And now, Frost might be, too.

Jana left her soup half-finished and went back upstairs to the office. She had some paperwork to sort through. Corlass, the butler, had been primarily in charge of that, since he was a minor nobleman who could own land and file in his name. It helped keep the estate separate from Borlyn affairs. There was no need for that, now, and Jana was determined to clean up the problems. They really needed a profit now that two nobles were living here.

Frost struggled to climb the side of the manor. His pewter had nearly run out. The sick Mistborn at Keep Qatan only gave Frost enough metal to barely make it home. /How did he know exactly how much to give me?/ he thought. He grasped the edge of Jana's office balcony, his arm trembling, and stumbled onto the landing. He braced himself on the doorway and squinted through the glass. He didn't dare burn tin. His pain had already become too acute. Jana sat at her desk, penning away at a ledger. Frost reached for the latch. The door opened, and Frost fell to the stone floor. His pewter ran out the moment his head hit the ground. His ears rang, and his forehead buzzed. The pain was easily overshadowed by his physical exhaustion. "Good morning," he slurred, face pressed against the floor. He did his best to hold onto his consciousness.

"Frost!" Jana leapt from her seat to tend to the Mistborn. "Are you alright? What happened last night?"

"If I could keep conscious, I'd..." Frost fought to keep awake. He didn't need to say much, but he hated to leave people hanging. "I'd tell you. But I feel like crap..."

The noblewoman scrambled to her feet and rifled through drawers in her desk. On the last drawer she found what she wanted. A moment later, she returned with a number of metal vials. "What do you need?"

"Pewter."

Jana shoved a pewter vial at Frost. He took it, hands trembling, and carefully swallowed the contents. His pewter reserve returned and he burned lightly, just enough to regain a touch of strength. He took a deep breath and blinked a number of times, then properly turned to Jana. "Who's idea was it to put those there?" Frost smirked.

Jana scoffed. Her mouth twisted in irritation. "You're welcome," she snapped. "Now what happened? And what made you so stupid as to leave without telling me?"

"Sorry Lady Jana. Just trying to keep you safe."

"By making me worry about you?"

"I never meant to do that. I wanted to keep you out of the danger I put myself in. And it's probably best I did. Where I went is no place for a noble lady." He was unsure if it would help, but Frost smiled more genuinely. "All I wanted was to keep you out of harm's way." He hoped he could soften her concern.

"So instead you put yourself into the thick of harm? Lord Ruler's sake, you could have at least let me hire another allomancer to help you! You had me terrified, Efrossine! Don't ever pull something so stupid again!" Jana practically fumed. Her eyes became misty and her lip trembled.

Frost went to continue, but quickly realized he couldn't help Jana being upset. He sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry, Lady Jana. Frankly I didn't think this through. I'll make it up to you later, but right now I'm about to pass out despite the pewter."

Obviously dissatisfied, Jana huffed. A lone tear rolled down her cheek. "Fine." She wiped the tear away. "Let's get you to bed." She stood without another word.

Watching Jana step out of the room, Frost sighed again and burned more pewter. He stumbled to his feet and held back a gasp as pain shot through his broken leg. His throat was parched, so as he gasped he also coughed. The heaving burned his throat more, and He hobbled into the hall after Jana. She had already rounded a corner proceeding to the bedrooms. Frost braced himself on the wall. Servants passed by and gave Frost worried glances, but continued with their previous task. With effort, the damaged Mistborn turned the corner Jana had. She waited at the end of the hall by the door to his bedroom. With a final huff of effort, Frost soldiered on down the hall. He glanced to Jana, who promptly averted her gaze. She sniffed back further tears, wiping them away as they came. Frost frowned, but he knew his treatment was rightful. He entered his room and limped to his bed, flopping down on it in a last push of effort. He sat up on the edge as Jana entered behind him.

Jana sat down next to Frost. He posture was straight, her gaze forward. Frost slouched next to her, rubbing out a knot in his leg. He winced as he did, but kept quiet. The two sat next to each other for nearly twenty minutes without saying a word. Finally, Jana broke the silence. "What happened to your leg?"

Frost winced again - this time not from his pain, but from having to explain his condition. "I... Broke it. Rough landing."

Through a watery voice, Jana delivered her reply. "You'll be fine. It'll heal."

"Jana," Frost said, turning to the young woman, "I am sorry. I didn't think things through, and I have no excuse for being so brash. I never wanted to make you worry. Can we discuss this?"

The young noble woman shook her head, finally turning to Frost. "Stop. Effrossine, stop! You don't get it, do you?" she snapped. "I cannot bear this right now. I hate being so hard on you, but you've damaged me! You have broken something in me, and offered me no chance to recover. I truly hope you don't expect to fix this so quickly, because if you do, I will remove you from this building without another word! I don't need you here! You can go back to being a hired killer and risk your life every day for gain. You can live out your horrid life and forget all about me!"

Frost sat silent for a moment. He though he could smell the tension in the room. He took extra care to form his response. "No, I don't expect to fix this quickly. I'll let you take as much time as you need." With hesitance, Frost continued. "If... you want me to leave, I'll do it. You don't have to feel obligated to keep me around."

Jana said nothing more. She sat on the edge of the bed, stare gone blank, tears streaming down her face. Frost debated saying more, but decided against it. He simply slid back on the bed and gently laid his head on a pillow. She can leave if she wants.

Frost finally extinguished his pewter. As its influence decreased, he let the physical and mental exhaustion set in and take him to sleep. Even as his pain sharpened, he lost his consciousness. He could finally sleep.


	11. Chapter 11 - Blooming

CHAPTER 11 - Blooming

When Frost awoke, the sun had set. The scent of dinner wafted from outside the open door, and the burn of his wounds had reduced to a dull buzz. He sat up carefully, glancing around the room. An oil lamp sat lit next to his bed, which cast long, warm shadows over the room - and lit the face of Jana, who lay asleep on the floor at the foot of Frost's bed. She had curled into a ball in her sleep, and Frost imagined she would be quite cold. He checked his reserves. Someone refilled my pewter, I see. He must have burned unconsciously, for when he burned it again and began to sit up, he did so with little struggle. He grabbed the blanket off his bed and dragged it over to Jana. She stirred, but he laid the blanket over her and stepped back. He sighed long and deep. I am sorry, he thought. Please forgive me.

As Frost glanced down at himself, he realized he wore no shirt. Instead, his torso had been bandaged. They seemed fresh, as they had no blood on them and were nearly pure white. He checked the rest of the room and found a new suit laid out on a table, with another vial of pewter and a note. Approaching the table, he first read the note.

"For when you wake up. If you need anything, Lotta will be happy to help you. Please be careful.

~ Jana"

He glanced back to the girl laying on his floor. It would seem she had laid the suit out herself. Thanks for the note. He smiled again, then uncorked the vial and shot it back. With a full reserve, Frost took the suit to change.

Frost managed to get a meal, clean himself up, and take a walk around the plantation to check on the skaa workers. After talking with them for a time, he stayed up and looked out to the north toward Luthadel off the manor's rear balcony. He stared at the spires of Kredik Shaw and got to thinking, What does Straff have planned for us now? He drank from a cup of tea and would periodically take the weight off his healing leg.

As he leaned on the railing, contemplating his opponent's next move, Someone joined him outside. "You're finally awake," she said.

Frost turned to greet the girl. He saw Jana. A smile crept onto his lips. She was dressed in a nightgown and a shawl, her hair draped over her shoulders by an inch. Her appearance caught him, and the Mistborn cleared his throat. "I felt it was time to get up. A bit rude, being asleep for a week."

"I'm guessing Lotta told you that detail?"

"That she did," he said, taking another drink. "Were you warm enough when you woke up?"

The young noble woman smiled and glanced to the ground. "Yes, I was. Thank you for that. And... I want to apologize. For how I treated you when you returned."

Frost shook his head. "It's alright, Lady Jana. You were right in telling me off. I was stupid, and brash, and I know I scared you. I hope you'll forgive me."

"I think I have," Jana said simply. "Over the last week I've thought a lot on you, on myself, and on what I did to you. I was unbelievably childish. Everything I did when you returned was uncalled for. And I'm sorry."

Frost response came quick and short. "Did you mean what you said?"

Jana caught her breath. She paused for a second, huffed lightly and shook her head. "No, I didn't. Like I said, I acted childish. I hope my words didn't hurt you too much. I just... needed to let go of my anger."

Frost smiled. He set down his drink and gestured for Jana to come closer, a tender smile again on his face. Sheepishly, she remained back. He gestured again, with open arms this time. "Yes?" She asked with a giggle.

"Come here," he invited her once more. She approached, and the Mistborn wrapped an arm around the girl and pulled her toward him. She tensed at the contact, but he still took her into a wide hug. He stopped himself from tensing as well. Jana gradually relaxed into his chest. As she did so, she brought her own arm around his upper back. He placed a hand around her back like she had and asked her, "Now was that so scary?"

Jana giggled again and backed up to look into Frost's eyes. "You can hardly blame me for being intimidated in the presence of a powerful Mistborn," she replied. The girl had an expression on her face Frost had never seen before. He didn't have the proper words to describe it, but the look made his heart pound harder in his chest.

Frost couldn't help but laugh at the corny remark from Jana. Seeing the change in mood, he followed suit. "I hope I don't intimidate you too much. I'd hate to get kicked out because I'm scary."

"I don't think I could get rid of you even if I tried."

"You'd probably be right about that."

She smiled again, glancing to the floor. "Despite what I said before, I think I want you to stay now. You've ingrained yourself in my mind, Frost."

"Then I've succeeded?"

"In what?"

"In getting into your head," he answered. "Getting you to loosen up wasn't easy, but I'd say it was worth the effort. And for the record, I can't get you out of my head either." For the moment, Frost felt in his element. Back to being rakish and charismatic. However, he did want to change his attitude a touch. He had reason to be more than simply rakish and charismatic. He had her. "But I think I like things this way," he said, voice softer. Frost thought the moment felt right. He brought a hand to Jana's face, cupping her jawline in his palm and stroking her cheek with his thumb. She smiled sweetly at the gesture, placing her own hand over his. /Her features are so small/ he thought, focusing on her dainty hand. The pair locked gazes. They each blushed in turn.

Jana continued to stare into Frost's eyes. He had to put forth effort to keep the eye contact, the gesture unnatural to him. He persisted, because she did. The two of them stood, gazes interlocked, for minutes on end - no words left their mouths. In time, as if their minds worked together, the two leaned in closer to each other. Frost's heart pounded in his chest. Jana's perfume drifted off her body and when he caught the scent, his heart skipped a beat. Her eyes mixed panic and passion into an expression he was sure he emulated. His mouth dried. The silence broken only by their deeper breathing and the crickets, Frost and Jana gave each other an innocent, warm, first kiss. Their lips pressed softly to each other's before either of them knew what happened. Frost's eyes fluttered shut, and he relaxed his shoulders when the deed was finally done. However, despite his happiness, he pulled back. "Oh, Lord Ruler. No, I'm sorry," he said. He turned his face away.

"What? Is something wrong?" Jana's blush intensified, now for a different reason. A slight bit of worry worked onto her face.

Frost shook his head - not to answer her question, but to deny his own feelings. "If I'm being honest, I'm worried that if we're starting anything here, we're starting something we shouldn't. You're a noble lady, and three years younger than I am. I'm an illegal Mistborn. Not the best combination, and I honestly worry if this will work out. We don't exactly have very safe lives. If we were to have anything, there would be little stability, if any."

"Frost," Jana said, his gaze turning back to her, "I would much rather have you with me when things get dangerous, than be on my own when things settle down." She smiled, taking a deep breath. Frost furrowed his brow. She explained further. "Frost, please don't criticize yourself, and definitely don't worry about my feelings for you. I've come to appreciate you more than anyone I've ever known. I don't think I'll ever be able to say enough. But what I will say is, frankly, I..." The words she wanted to say lodged themselves in her throat. She coughed and forced herself to continue. "Efrossine, I love you. And I don't want anything more to come between us."

Before Frost could check himself, he found himself grinning ear to ear. His heartbeat steadied and he noticeably warmed up. "Do you really?" He asked her.

"I do," she told him.

Though he wanted to do so much - thank her as much as anyone could, express all the thoughts and ideas going through his mind, jump for joy, hug her as tight as he could and never let go, curl into a ball and die - he found himself only capable of saying five words, "I love you too Jana."

All concerns, all troubles melted away. Frost and Jana pressed their lips together again, now holding the kiss firm. Frost wrapped his arms around the girl's waist, she rested her arms on his shoulders. Their bodies pressed together, and within seconds, everything aside from the two of them lost all importance. All that mattered now to Frost was her. A weight lifted from his shoulders, and he released a sigh. When they unpressed their lips, they took each other into a warm embrace and closed their eyes. Even with the wrongs and the evils of the world around them, all was well. Not even the swirling Mists or the falling ash could spoil the moment.

He awoke early that morning to screams from down the hall. In his half-asleep stupor, he debated whose screams he heard. As he sat rubbing his eyes, the thought clicked. /Jana./ He shot out of bed and swiped a dagger from his bedside drawer. Dashing from his room to hers, he flared pewter to keep his traction and close the gap in seconds. He twisted the handle and slammed into the door in the same instant, sending it swinging open. He raised his dagger, ready to strike. Jana jumped back in her bed, a squeak escaping her lips. She was safe. Nothing had happened after all. "I thought someone attacked you," he said, stepping into the room. "Are you alright?"

Jana sat in her bed. She sucked back air, a lone tear on her cheek. She said nothing.

"What's wrong, Lady Jana?"

Jana choked on her next words. Whatever it was, it shook her up well. She cleared her throat. "Nightmare," she said simply. "I... The both of us were tortured and killed by a noble house's Mistborn."

A ghostly image of Straff's 'attack dog' flashed in Frost's head. He blinked it away. "Can I do anything to clear your mind?" He hoped in saying so he could clear his own.

Jana kept quiet for a moment, stare turned blank. She turned her gaze to Frost and pulled back the edge of her covers. "Stay here for a while?"

The words surprised Frost enough to make him choke on his breath. She was a girl - a noble girl at that - and she wanted him to help her sleep. Though they had confessed their love for each other mere hours ago, the idea of them actually being together frightened him beyond measure. He had never gotten this close with any human being in his entire life. Now everything could change, and it terrified him. Nonetheless, she needed his help. He would fulfill her request. He tiptoed to the edge of her bed and, as softly as he could, climbed onto the mattress. He sat with his back against the headboard.

Jana crawled up to him, her tired eyes still able to pierce through him, and took a shallow breath. "Lay down, please," she said.

Frost hesitated for a moment, but did as he was asked. He slipped under the covers and did his best not to tremble from anxiety. The noblewoman rested her head on Frost's right shoulder once he stopped squirming. He stared at the ceiling and focused on the patterns in the wood. She placed her hand on his chest. He breathed deeper. She lay still. After all had been done, he began to relax himself, wrapping an arm around the young lady. Sleep overtook her quickly, but she still lay gently on his chest. He steadied his breathing, forcing down his illegitimate fear. This is good, he thought. This is how it should be. The Mistborn still kept awake for a time, thinking about Jana's dream. I truly hope that dream isn't an omen for something. Then again, it could be. He shut his eyes. I need to tell her about that night.


End file.
